The Way of The Blind
by Witchy Bee
Summary: AU: Cecilia Amell loses her sight as the result of a spell gone awry, but that doesn't mean she can't still become a Grey Warden.
1. Fade

**A/N:** Please review!

)O(

Normally First Enchanter Irving didn't have time for things like lectures and such, but today was different. He'd been asked to speak to the apprentices regarding the proper use of lyrium, as several viles had mysteriously disappeared recently. The Chantry wasn't about to suspect its own, fearing what a public investigation could do to its reputation and that of the templars.

He knew none of his mages were stealing lyrium. What would be the motive? The templars after all were addicted to the stuff. It didn't make sense, but he had to do this, if only to placate Greagoir for the time being.

"Lyrium is the essence of magic, the most powerful substance known to all of Thedas." he said. Out of habit, several apprentice quickly scrawled his words in their notebooks. Others closer to the back of the room were busy napping or passing notes to one another. Ah, children...

"What about blood?"

The class became so quiet you could hear a pen drop. Everyone froze where they were, stopping whatever they had been doing, and looked in the direction of the voice. A redheaded girl had spoken. Next to her sat a boy who seemed almost more horrified than the rest.

"Blood magic is forbidden, child." Irving stated. It was something he was used to saying by now. It was also something she already knew.

"I know that, but even so, surely you cannot deny its effectiveness." the apprentice countered.

Irving frowned. These were dangerous questions she posed. Should Greagoir hear of this...things could become very complicated for her. Open-mindedness was not a welcomed viewpoint within the Circle. It made survival difficult, and it made it that much harder for the Chantry to keep its hold on the mages.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

"Cecilia Amell, First Enchanter..."

"Well then, Cecilia, I would ask that you come to my office after class, please."

The lecture went on, though he wasn't fully invested in his own words anymore. Irving found himself distracted, his eyes occasionally straying towards the red haired apprentice. She probably thought she was in trouble now. But he had heard of her talents, specifically that she excelled in the Spirit School. This was not easy to do, as most apprentices tended to stick to simply elemental spells.

Cecilia would be great at whatever she chose to do with her gift, he was told, and it was true. But first she had to pass the Harrowing. He intended to do everything in his power to make that happen. Someday, the future of the Circle could very well rest in her hands, after all.

Though it was hard to believe this young girl was the same apprentice whom her instructors had described.

Irving waited in his office for her to arrive. Then he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

"Now you've done it," a voice grumbled. "He probably thinks you're a blood mage now."

"Shut up, Jowan." Cecilia retorted. "He just wants to meet with me. Besides, who would be stupid enough to practice blood magic right under the templars' noses?" There was a short pause. "Jowan, are you even listening?"

"What? Yes; I...I'm just, uh, you're right."

"Of course I'm right. Now get out of here, I'll find you after I've finished speaking with the First Enchanter."

"Right...I have to go meet up with someone anyway."

"Oh yes, this alleged 'girl' of yours."

"Not so loud! You know the templars don't approve that sort of thing. And besides, you of all people should understand. The way you and Petra..."

"All right, you got me there."

Irving realized he was hearing something he shouldn't be. Relationships between mages weren't entirely uncommon. Though this was discouraged by the Chantry, it still happened. One of the only times the templars really had to step in was if a mage become with child. The infant would be taken away for fear it was also a mage and, at best, would be sent to live in another country's Tower. Probably Orlais, since it was easiest for the Chantry there to keep a close eye on things. In the worst circumstances, the babe was killed, sometimes the mother as well. Though this didn't happen in Ferelden. Not if he had anything to say about it.

"First Enchanter?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and focused once again on the situation at hand. Cecilia was standing before him, looking confused and worried, rightfully so.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in..." he smiled.

"You wanted to see me?" She wasn't here to make small talk. That much was clear. But she was respectful about it, at least.

"Yes. Your instructors tell me you are quite talented."

She blushed. "No more so than anyone else, I'm sure."

"And modest as well, I see." he remarked. "Cecilia, you have shown an exceptional understanding of Spirit magic. There are few mages who are able or willing to do this. It is for this reason that I would like to offer you my guidance. You would become my apprentice until the time comes for you to take the Harrowing."

The girl stood there in shock for several minutes. What she was thinking, he didn't know.

"As you wish, First Enchanter." she finally said.

"Good." he smiled kindly. "Then I will see you bright an early tomorrow for your first lesson."

"But..."

"And don't worry, you will be excused from all of your regular classes."

Now she smiled as well. "Thank you, ser."

)O(

Cecilia didn't know what to think. It didn't make sense. She asks a potentially dangerous question about blood magic and suddenly the First Enchanter wants to be her personal mentor. Maybe he just wanted to keep a closer watch on her, there was always that possibility.

"Jowan says you spoke with the First Enchanter."

Ah, Petra and her inability to start a conversation like a normal person. It was never simply 'Hi there! How was your day?' No, there was always something important she had to say or a piece of gossip that just couldn't wait. No time for pleasantries.

It was one of the things Cecilia loved about her.

The affair was brief and intense. They were friends with benefits who obliged to an unspoken promise of monogamy, to put it simply. But nothing was simple when it came to the Tower.

"I did."

"And?"

"You already know, don't you?" Cecilia glanced sideways at the other woman.

"Yes, but I want to hear it from you."

She looked away. "He asked me to...become his apprentice."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

_Isn't it?_

"Yeah, I guess. I'm honored, certainly..." She trailed off and then asked, "How is Jowan taking the news?"

"He's envious, of course." Petra replied, fighting back a grin. "But he's also happy for you."

"And...what about you?"

"I'm happy for you, too. Irving's all right, but I like Senior Enchanter Wynne. You'll go through the Harrowing soon and make your way in the world, and I'll still be happy for you."

Cecilia took a deep breath. What was she supposed to say to that? Petra was the one who would make something of herself. Those who specialized in Creation magic were always in high demand. While she'd be stuck in a library somewhere researching the deep depths and outer reaches of the Fade and testing the Veil that supposedly shrouded it from view, let alone exploration. Yes, maybe she would go on an expedition to the Fade, perhaps even the Black City, and Petra might stay behind and cure diseases or...

It was dangerous for a mage to think about the future.

She needed sleep.

The Fade awaited.

)O(

"You're going to send me into the Fade?"

Irving shook his head. "No, not yet. Only halfway. Nothing can hurt you. This is just a test of your willpower. However, there must be templars present just in case."

Cecilia was shocked. "I thought apprentices weren't allowed to know anything about the Harrowing, much less practice for it."

"True; but it is both mine and the Circle's belief that you are a vital asset. You should have no trouble, but I will not lie, there is always a risk." he said. "Do you understand?"

She nodded. "I understand, ser."

The lyrium was the key. She could feel the Veil falling down around her, or maybe it was she who was slipping. Either way, reality had shifted to a world of dreams and visions but mostly sound. She could hear a million voices and felt a million eyes watching her all at once. Cecilia wasn't sure her body was really hers anymore.

"Can you tell me what's happening, child?" Irving's voice broke through somehow.

"I'm not alone..." she heard herself say. "...I can feel them...their eyes..."

"The spirits can't hurt you." he assured her.

"No, but the demons can."

"This isn't a Harrowing, Greagoir." the First Enchanter sighed.

"Well it certainly looks like one."

Something was wrong here. Everything went black and she thought she was falling. Maybe she was, in a sense. She reached out with her mind for something to hold on to. There was nothing. Cecilia was going to be trapped in the Fade forever. She would never see Petra or Jowan or First Enchanter Irving again.

She didn't remember exactly when the world became dark and still, only waking up. Cecilia hoped it had all been a nightmare. There was talk of Tranquility, as she had failed, but Irving insisted the fault was his own. There was no reason she should not go through the Harrowing, except...

"Oh, CeCe, I'm so glad you're all right!" Petra's voice sounded clearly relieved and she welcomed the other mage's warm embrace.

"I'm not all right, Petra..." she replied slowly. "...I can't see."


	2. Mouse & Desire

The healers could do nothing.

Irving blamed himself, of course. But how could he had known? The Fade was the most unpredictable place known to mankind. It could have taken a lot more from her than just her sight, she knew. Maybe there was a reason why most mages didn't practice Spirit magic.

She still would have to undergo the Harrowing. There was no getting around it. Just because she was blind now didn't mean Cecilia was any less capable as a mage. Things would just be...a little different.

Oh, who was she kidding? What _wouldn't_ be different? The reality of it all hadn't even set in yet. There was still part of her that foolishly hoped her sight would magically return. Ha.

"Perhaps the Maker really does hate mages." she said to herself.

"Well I should certainly hope not."

Petra hadn't left her side in days, to the point where it was starting to get a little annoying. She didn't do much, none of them did, there was nothing to do but wait.

That night, or at least she assumed it was night time given the stillness, Cecilia was awoken by templars and led to a room at the very top of the Tower. The Harrowing Chamber.

"You know why you are here, Cecilia?" the First Enchanter asked, his voice sounding regretful.

"Yes, ser."

Then came Knight-Commander Greagoir's voice, "'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.' Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse, for demons of the dream realm - the Fade - are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world." As if she didn't know that.

"Every mage must go through this trial by fire. As we succeeded, so shall you. I have no doubt of this, even given your condition." Irving said.

"She must go through this test _alone_, First Enchanter." Greagoir snapped, adding much more quietly, "I think you've done enough damage as it is."

The Knight-Commander had been pushing for the Rite of Tranquility, but eventually agreed to allow her this chance to prove herself. Just as before, the lyrium was the key, only this time she would be sent completely into the Fade. There she would face a demon. The only weapon she would have was her magic and her will. The lack of vision put her at a bit of a disadvantage as well.

Oddly, she felt more awake while in the Fade than ever before. Around her was an ever-changing landscape of colors and semi-real things. Something that was solid one moment could be gone the next. It was all a matter of spirits and their rather complex ideas, wishing the very world into being.

Demons, on the other hand, were not content with this existence. They wanted more. They wanted to feel as mortals did, trick them, eat them in some cases. Often they would attempt to strike bargains with humans that ultimately benefited the demon and left the victim with nothing. Or so she was told. Cecilia had never encountered a demon before, though they were supposed to seek out mages to possess because of their close connection to the Fade. Thre was a first time for everything though, and now she would have to be stronger than them.

"Another soul thrown at the nonexistent mercy the demons, I see. Hate to break it to you, stranger, but you don't have much time. They kill you if you take too long. Or at least, I think they do."

"Who are you?" Cecilia tried to suppress the rising fear in her voice.

"I'm not one of _them_, don't worry." the creature replied. "You can call me Mouse."

"That's an odd name." she remarked.

"Well, I'm a mouse, aren't I?" Mouse pointed out defensively.

"I have no idea. I can't see you. I can't see anything."

Mouse was silent for a time, contemplating her words. "Oh." he said. "Well, at any rate, I don't remember my name. And if you're going to fight the demon that's hunting you, I suggest you be prepared."

They proceeded to do just that. This involved answering three riddles told to them by a demon, and persuading a Spirit of Valor to give her a weapon. She was as ready as she ever would be. Mouse had learned to become a bear, a much more threatening form.

Cecilia stopped suddenly. She could feel something strange: a pair of violet eyes boring into her. The stare was full of wicked intention.

"Ah, aren't you a good little mouse, bringing yet another to me." the voice was sugary sweet and smooth as honey. It sounded almost like a bell. "Well done, my pet."

"I don't have to help you anymore, demon, and I'm not a mouse."

"Indeed." she seemed to ignore the comment. "And what's this? A poor blind mage? Perhaps a fine offering, but surely she can't be your champion, Mouse."

"I can fight better than you think." Cecilia said through gritted teeth.

"Who said anything about fighting? I think we can settle this without violence." _Think again..._ "I propose a deal that will benefit us equally: shiny new eyes in exchange for a glimpse through them. Hmm?"

"No deal. You're a demon. I know not to trust you."

"You are wiser than you look, mage. Very well then, I tried to be civil but clearly you refuse to see reason. You've brought this upon yourself."

Then, Desire attacked. She fought ruthlessly, but was no match for Cecilia and her companion. In fact, it was a little too easy...

It wasn't her test at all.

Mouse had lied to her.

"The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions...careless trust..._pride_. Keep your wits about you, mage, because true tests...never end."

The words stuck with her even as she woke.

)O(

"...Say something, _please_..."

She came around slowly. First there was the revelation that she was alive, and therefore had passed the Harrowing. Then the realization that she was lying on a bed, and finally she heard his voice, pleading with her to wake up and be okay.

"Jowan...? Is-Is this the Fade?" she asked, her mind still groggy.

"No, you're back in the Apprentice Dormitory." he answered. "You're safe, CeCe. Take a deep breath. Everyone's been so worried about you."

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow. "_Everyone_?"

"Well, mostly just me and Petra. Oh, and that templar, Cullen. He brought you in last night and stood there for like ten minutes. I don't think he was on duty either."

"Creepy..."

Cecilia was well aware of Cullen's affections for her, everybody was. That didn't mean she felt the same way. Very few people knew about her and Petra so it made sense that the rumors persisted.

Jowan went on to ask about the Harrowing, and she told him that she would rather not talk about it, which was true. They were best friends and they shared all of their secrets...hut this...she didn't even want to remember it, let alone tell him.

He was worried that he would never be called for his Harrowing. He would eventually, she said, he just had to be patient. Any day now...

"Oh, by the way, the First Enchanter wanted to talk to you after you woke up."

Of course he did. Cecilia had never been more tired in her life. She was now a full-fledged mage, but somehow it didn't feel like much of an accomplishment.

Joawn told her Petra was sleeping. Cecilia kissed her lightly on the forehead before leaving the room. She knew the Tower's halls so well by now that she didn't need to see in order to navigate them.

This all still felt like a dream to her though. A horrible, awful, nightmare.


	3. For The Best

"First Enchanter?" Cecilia asked, uncertain of whether of not she was interrupting something.

Irving and Greagoir had been arguing about the number of troops sent to Ostagar in response to the king's call for aid against the darkspawn. It seemed an unlikely situation to her; another Blight when the creatures were said to have been wiped out centuries ago during the last archdemon's reign. But she knew there was a world out there, a world that existed beyond the Tower but before the Fade: Ferelden. She was from this place, though Cecilia had little memories of it. Maybe the books were wrong and the tainted dragon had indeed risen again. If that were the case, then they would certainly need all the mages they could get.

"Gentlemen, please..." Another, calm and unfamiliar voice broke through the quarreling. "First Enchanter, I believe there is someone here for you."

"This isn't over." the Knight-Commander growled, then Cecilia heard his armored boots clank against the floor and the 'whoosh' of his skirt, or battle dress, or what it is the templars called, as he left the room.

"You summoned me?" she prompted.

"Yes. There is someone I would like for you to meet, child." Irving replied. "This is Duncan, leader of the Ferelden Grey Wardens."

There was that word again that was supposed to mean something to her. It didn't. What caught Cecilia's attention was the mention of Grey Wardens. So it was true then: the darkspawn had returned. The thought alone was enough to turn the blood in her veins to ice.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." the deep voiced Warden said. "Irving has had nothing but great things to say about you."

"Thank you, ser."

Irving congratulated her on passing the Harrowing, and gave her a new set of robes, a staff, and a ring. Cecilia agreed to show Duncan to his room, though it was more like she was simply walking with him since she wasn't exactly in a position to be leading anyone anywhere. Still, he seemed grateful for the company. Perhaps the life of a Grey Warden was lonely sometimes. Never being able to have a family of your own, being unappreciated by those who had forgotten the ancient order's sacrifices, always having to remain neutral even on matters which one could not be blamed for having an opinion on. But what would she know of such things anyway?

"Cecilia!"

She heard someone hiss her name. No, not just someone, it was Jowan.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember what we talked about this morning?" he asked in a whisper.

The other mage frowned. "Of course I do..." There was something he wasn't telling her. "Why are you whispering? It looks very suspicious, you know."

"Shhh! Look, it's not safe to talk here. Come with me, okay? I'll explain everything, I swear."

"Jowan," she said very seriously. "You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, CeCe, but you're just going to have to trust me."

He took her by the arm and they walked for a short distance in silence. She knew the layout of the Tower well, which meant this must be the chapel. Not the best place to go for privacy since templars frequented it several times a day for prayer and meditation. And she could tell from the extra aura in the room that they were not alone. There was someone else; a non-mage with an extraordinarily bright pink energy about her.

"You know how I told you that I...met a girl?" Jowan sounded nervous, uncertain of how she would react. Cecilia nodded. "Well, this is Lily."

"She's not a mage, is she?"

"No; Lily is an initiate, a sister of the Chantry. She's already taken her vows. Lily's not supposed to have...relations with men, especially mages." Jowan sighed. "But I love her, CeCe. You know what I mean, don't you?"

"Yes, Jowan, I know what love is."

But her best friend's forbidden romantic affairs were not the only news. Rumors had suggested he was a blood mage. It wasn't true, he insisted, though it certainly would not have been the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Still, they were going to make him Tranquil, stripping him of all emotions and leaving an empty shell to do the Circle's bidding without question. It was why he hadn't been called for his Harrowing yet, as full-fledged mages like herself were not permitted to take the Rite of Tranquility unless they requested to do so. Many an outspoken mage had escaped with their mind intact because of this loop-hole, like Anders the Spirit Healer.

There was only one way out. And that was to literally get out. However, escape was pointless if the templars still had your phylactory, the vile of blood taken from every mage who passes through the Circle's massive doors. Without it, tracking them down could became virtually impossible.

The plan that Jowan and Lily had devised to locate and destroy his phylactery was rather simple. They were never questioned by anyone, and despite a few minor setbacks, everything went perfectly. In time, they reached the freezing room in the Tower's basement. There it was, he said, so fragile...all that stood in the way of him and freedom. And with a shattering of glass and a heart-fluttering sensation of an old spell broken, it was over.

But as it so happened, it was not the only thing that stood in their way.

"I swear, this isn't what it looks like." Cecilia insisted, knowing it wouldn't be convincing. After all, it most certainly _was_ what it appeared to be.

"And just how exactly would _you_ know what this looks like, Amell?" Greagoir taunted. Oh, that was a cheap shot. She wanted to make a point of telling him so but the First Enchanter spoke first.

"Now, Greagoir, I'll handle this." he said. "I am very disappointed in you, Cecilia. You could have told me what you knew, but you didn't."

"He is my friend."

"No, First Enchanter, you've been taking responsibility for this one's recklessness for too long. I will see to it that she, the blood mage, and his accomplice pay for what they have done."

And then Jowan was shouting, a boldness in him that she had never seen before, his words like poisoned blades. She thought she heard a blade...and next thing she knew Cecilia was lying on the floor covered in blood, her best friend's own blood, and he was gone.

Blood magic.

"He lied to me..." she whispered to no one, her unseeing eyes focused on the ceiling.

She and Lily would probably die for this, his mistake, didn't he care? Was there nothing left in him but the desire to be free and survive? What was the use of salvaging his emotions if he just ran away from those he cared about like that?

A steady hand helped Cecilia to her feet. It didn't feel like Irving's hand, and it obviously wasn't one of the templars...so who...?

"Are you all right?"

She knew that voice: it was the Grey Warden from before.

"I..." For some reason she couldn't think of what to say to that. "Yes, ser. Thank you."

Both she and Lily with The Pink Aura were in shock, and all they could do was listen while their fates were decided for them. And at this point, they'd be lucky to still be alive by sundown tomorrow. The Grey Warden, Duncan, wanted Cecilia to join his order. She couldn't possibly fathom why. How could a blind mage be of any use against a horde of darkspawn?

Not that it mattered, since Greagoir would have none of it. Yep, he was gong to put an end to her insignificant existence, snuffing out her own little shining blotch of light from the face of the Veil as easily as one would a candle's flame, and send her spirit soaring back into the deepest, darkest, region of the Fade...

Then she would rest. There wouldn't be anything much to see anyway.

"It is a rare person who would risk everything to help a friend, Knight-Commander." Duncan continued his attempt at persuading the other man, "There are worst things that plague this world than blood mages. You know that. Let me take this mage off your hands, and I promise to be held responsible for her actions whilst she is with me."

Greagoir sighed. "Fine, have it your way. The less troublemakers I have to deal with, the better. And I guess if you can find some use for her, then so be it."

Cecilia would only have time to gather her things before they had to leave. The sooner she and Duncan reached Ostagar, the sooner she could take the 'Joining' and become a Grey Warden herself. The darkspawn didn't wait forever. In light of all that had happened, she and Petra shared one last farewell embrace before they parted ways for what very well could be forever. The thought hurt more than it should. Petra could do a lot better than her anyway. Maybe this was for the best.

Cecilia's new life was waiting, as was the land she was to call home but would never see, and a war she was to fight in against an ancient foe thought only to exist in legends with powerful griffins who cast down the mighty tainted dragons back into the deepest, darkest, depths of the Fade...

She had no choice but to look upon the world like a newborn babe yet to open its eyes.


	4. Irrevocable

**A/N:** Research shows that writers who receive reviews are over 90% less likely to develop Writer's Block as those who don't. So, you know, review...

)O(

From what she had been told, Ostagar was an ancient fortress built by the Tevinter Imperium to monitor barbarian attacks from the Wilds. Now, it was a crumbling ruin, one of the only remaining Tevinter structures in Ferelden aside from the Circle Tower itself. Of course, they would be facing a much different foe this time. Darkspawn weren't barbarians: they were the eyes, ears, and hands of the archdemon, weakening its potential prey until the dragon made a move to the surface. The Grey Wardens seemed to know it was down there somewhere, amassing an army of its own...

"I hope you'll have some spells to help us in the coming battle." King Cailan, beloved but childish ruler of Ferelden said. No one could blame him. He was practically still a child himself.

_We'll see about that_, she thought, but what Cecilia said was, "Thank you, your Majesty. I will try not to disappoint anyone."

And so, she made her way through the ruins, occasionally asking for directions from passing soldiers. Her staff served as an efficient enough cane for now, just so she didn't accidentally trip over loose stones or run into a wall that she swore hadn't been there a second ago. Ostagar was an unfamiliar place, after all, she couldn't navigate it as easily as she could the Tower. The full implications of Cecilia's disability suddenly hit her. She felt so..._different_; so horribly and irrevocably changed. There really was no going back, was there? Things would be as they were forever, or simply get worse, since they could always get worse.

"I'd heard the new Grey Warden was from the Circle." An old woman addressed her. This woman, clearly a mage, had an aura of comfort about her. It was a warm, baby blue energy that conveyed nothing but peace, kindness, and slightly insistent wisdom.

"Senior Enchanter Wynne!" Cecilia exclaimed, smiling. "Petra has told me such good things about you."

"Oh, I'm sure she has plenty of complaints about me too." They both laughed. "You know, Irving has told me many things about you as well. He wrote me a few weeks ago and explained what happened. He is very sorry, dear, as am I."

Cecilia was shocked by this stranger's compassion. "Thank you, but...I'll be okay, I think."

"I _know_ you will be." the elder mage assured her. "But the past isn't what's important now, I suppose. You'll be fighting darkspawn soon. Tell me, what do you know of the connection between darkspawn and the Fade?"

Her ears perked up at the mention of the dream realm.

Darkspawn...in the Fade? How was such a thing even possible? There were demons and there were spirits. That is what most mages knew, and some even believed the Fade was inhabited solely by demons who sought to possess them. But she, as a Spirit mage, had learned that there existed a million gray areas, somewhere between demon and spirit, and a million colors not visible to the waking eye, but darkspawn? It was impossible, unimaginable, and just plain ridiculous.

"With all due respect, Senior Enchanter, in all my years of training in the art of Spirit I have heard of no such thing."

Ah, but Wynne wasn't referring to actual darkspawn living in the dream realm. No, she meant to tell her the Chantry's version of how the Blight came to be: the allegory that so many people eagerly accepted as truth before even considering any alternate theories. It was they who were blinded, not her.

Cecilia didn't have time for this anyway. She had to find the Grey Warden called Alistair who was to prepare her for the Joining. It was easy enough once someone pointed her in the right direction.

)O(

There were three things about the new recruit which convinced him that Duncan had been out of his mind when he asked her to join the order.

First of all, she was a woman. Not that he minded, of course, but there just weren't that many women in the Grey Wardens and he had always wondered why. But she had an interesting answer for that one, "Maybe we're just too smart for you."

Ah, and he had no doubt of that. She was a _mage_. Templar training be damned, this shouldn't bother him, but he was arguing with another mage when she arrived and he must have given her the impression that he thought all of them were grumpy abominations lying in wait. Which he didn't, really, it was one of the reasons he hadn't wanted to be a templar in the first place. Alistair could sympathize with the mages to a certain degree; they didn't have a choice either. They were not free, and they were constantly hated just for being born. So was he, his blood, his stupid royal blood had defined his life. Alistair hated the Chantry and he hated being a bastard prince.

But this wasn't important right now. There was still the matter of the new girl, the _blind_ mage. That's right, Duncan hadn't been joking, since Duncan didn't joke about Grey Warden things. Cecilia - he wasn't about to forget her name again - was blind. Apparently it had happened before she took the Harrowing, some kind of accident with a spell, he wasn't given many details. Not that Alistair wanted to know. He certainly wasn't going to ask. Nonetheless, Cecilia seemed to be adapting well enough, how did she do it?

Even as they moved through the Wilds, she managed to avoid tripping over any jagged roots or stepping into the many shallow pools the swamp had. He found himself watching her more and more. It was remarkable how graceful she could be. Alistair hoped she survived the Joining, at least, she just had to make it through.

They had completed half of their mission. Each of them had a vial of impossibly dark red blood, to the point that it was almost black. The blood of darkspawn, tainted and evil, and guess what? You're going to be drinking it!

"And you, what do you believe?" the old woman asked Cecilia. He couldn't believe this was the dreaded Witch of the Wilds, the infamous sorceress of legend.

"I don't know what to believe." the Circle mage answered honestly.

"A statement that carries more wisdom than it implies."

The alleged Witch was insane, possibly dangerous and/or possessed, but still she returned the treaties to them.

Her daughter Morrigan, the sneaky, weird talking, apostate that she was, agreed to lead their party out of the forest.

It was time.

)O(

It was time.

No going back now.

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn, and use it to slay the archdemon." Alistair, the templar who told jokes, informed them..

"Those who survive?" Cecilia could not stop the words from leaving her throat.

"Not all who drink the darkspawn blood will survive, and those who do are forever changed." Duncan said.

_Horribly, irrevocably, changed._..

And indeed, a moment later she could hear someone dying. Her mind's eye clearly saw his spirit fade into the abyss. The mark of an early death, a sacrificial end, as the land of the dead was not prepared to claim him just yet. Daveth the Thief was gone.

"No, you ask too much!" Then there was the sound of two swords unsheathed, one belonging to him, and the other to the Warden-Commander. "There is no glory in this!" Battle followed, only briefly though before one blade hit its mark, sinking into the flesh and out the other side. Ser Jory, the Cowardly Knight, fell to the stone floor...dead. Another soul for the void to take…

"I am sorry, Jory." Duncan said.

Cecilia felt the chalice being pressed into her hands. She took it instinctively, and brought it to her lips. Her hands were shaking and her heart raced. Never had she been more afraid, not even before the Harrowing.

Her unseeing eyes rolled back in her head as awful visions assaulted her mind. She wasn't sure exactly why she could see _this_ of all things. It was not the Fade, nor the mortal plain, but somewhere in between; perhaps the deepest, darkest, depths of her own subconscious. The creature that dwelled here could only be the archdemon itself.

But the beast was gone as quickly as it had appeared. With one earsplitting roar it proclaimed its great power over over her and the world came back into focus and returned to the blackness she knew it to be now.

She could feel Duncan's strong, battle-hardened presence nearby as well as Alistair's. He had a slightly worried energy about him. Odd for a templar.

"It is done." the senior Grey Warden declared. "Welcome." He helped Cecilia to her feet just as he had back at the Circle Tower when her mind was still reeling from the betrayal of someone she thought was a friend. He'd done it to protect Lily, she knew, but that didn't soften the blow.

"That was much more painful than the Harrowing..." she offered, not wanting to even think of _him_ or that day.

Duncan requested her attendance to a strategy meeting with King Cailan the Glorious; Teyrn Loghain, his adviser, general, and some argued the only competent one here, the person who would lead them to victory in Ferelden's name. In fact, after King Maric's death it had even been suggested that he should rule instead of Cailan, but he wasn't about to take the crown away from the current royal line when he had fought so hard to see it won back from the Orlesians. But, as Cecilia was quickly realizing, people didn't seem to live up to what the history books said they should be. Sometimes this was for the better, often not.

Enchanter Uldred was also said to be at the meeting, as was the Grand Cleric of the Chantry. She was there to make sure the mages weren't heard. Cecilia didn't consider herself to be a Libertarian like Uldred, nor was she a Equitarian like Irving or Wynne. Above all, Cecilia was a realist. True, people would never stop fearing mages, but it was no reason to run off and live on an island somewhere. On the other hand, things certainly weren't dire enough to completely submit to the Chantry's law. One couldn't afford to give up or be too rebellious. Maybe hers was more of an Equitarian viewpoint after all, but she had nothing to compare it to now.

Equitarians were looked down upon by Loyalists and Libertarians alike. But they kept a certain balance of ideas and influence, maintaining a fragile peace not only between templars and mages, but among the Enchanters themselves. They bridged the gap that separated freedom fro submission. It wasn't a coincidence that almost every higher ranking Enchanter was an Equitarian. Not because it was right, but because it was necessary.

But of course, wasn't that the entire reason for the Circle's existence?

Relief washed over her when the king announced that she would not be in the battle. Perhaps she could take on a few darkspawn at a time, but Cecilia was no match for an entire army. Now that she was a Grey Warden, the mage would be able to sense them. This was good since darkspawn were twisted, soulless, vessels who didn't go to the Fade when they were slain. Cecilia didn't want to imagine where they went. All she knew was it made it impossible for her to sense them without their blood in her veins.

Still, she did not look forward to fighting the beasts again, and so when King Cailan sent she and Alistair to light the beacon that would signal Teyrn Loghain's troops to charge, Cecilia was secretly thankful.

But because the Maker hated mages, the Tower of Ishal had been seized by the enemy. They'd have to fight their way in. The beacon was just out of reach. And as the storm raged on, she began to miss the warmth and relative safety of the Tower of Magi.


	5. Where Spirits Come To Die

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews thus far everyone! You have no idea how much your feedback means to me. ^^

)O(

When she asked, Alistair refused to describe the ogre to her. It was probably better that way. She knew it was big, massive even, and it loomed over her. The beast was so close she could smell its breath: death and decay.

After that, there was nothing.

Cecilia's memory simply stopped, like a book slammed shut, cutting off the author before the story even begins. She didn't know if this was the Fade or merely some sort of maddening purgatory. Maybe these thoughts, if they could even be considered so, were empty of meaning to all but herself. No one would ever hear them unless they sprouted wings and fled while time still existed.

What if her spirit had already ascended and this was all that remained?

The Well of All Souls, the emerald waters from which all life was brought forth and said to return to, the silent and tainted Heavens...Eternity. All things promised by Andraste certainly would not be found here. Maybe this was where the forgotten waited to be claimed. Maybe this was where the spirits came to die.

The deepest, darkest, region of the Fade by far...She had found it.

_"She is stable, for now. I trust you will look after this one, girl?"  
_  
That was odd. There were not supposed to be words in the dream realm. Voices were _something_ and that greatly conflicted with the emptiness of the abyss. Not to mention it was said to anger the silent Maker when a spirit spoke since talking was so similar to singing and only Andraste could sing in His presence. Of course, He wasn't here, and that was why the Chantry wanted to spread the prophet's words to all corners of Thedas. A million voices might just equal Andraste's god-enthralling melody.

And dreamers wandered, ever in search of their voices, hopelessly hunting down the right words. The atmosphere of this place was thick with their silent screams...

_"You doubt my ability to watch an invalid? Honestly, Mother, 'tis not as if she is in much of a position to escape."_  
_  
"Morrigan, you know as well as I how important her survival is to the survival of not only the world of men but the Wilds and everything here."_

_"...Yes, Mother, I know."_

_"Then you will do as is asked of you, yes?"_

_"Yes, Mother."_

A time later - Cecilia wasn't sure exactly how long since time was slowly dying - she could feel the warmth of life slowly trickling through her veins again. Then there came memories, each one like a piece of the puzzle that was how she came to be here. A tower, a beacon, a monster, a war...

They'd lost, hadn't they?

But was this her life or a story she'd read long ago?

Was this what it felt like to remember? Had she not forgotten herself after all, but merely her surroundings, the circumstances that brought her to this point on the brink of rebirth?

"So, you're eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased." a woman remarked conversationally. Her eyes were open, then. That was a good start. And this woman, Cecilia knew her, she was sure of it...

"Wh...Where am I?" Cecilia tried to speak, the words sounding raspy and strange to her own ears. This voice was somehow not as she remembered it, yet she knew nothing had changed.

"You are back in the Wilds of course, and safe, for now. I am Morrigan, lest you have forgotten."

Ah, yes, the young Witch they had encountered in the forest prior to...Ostagar, blood, death, battle, tower, beacon, monster, and now...where did Morrigan fit in with all this?

"Why can't I remember?" she asked aloud.

"Do you recall nothing? What about our meeting in the Wilds?" Cecilia nodded. She just couldn't seem to put the events in chronological order. "And foolishly storming the Tower of Ishal and lighting the signal for your army?" The pieces were beginning to fall into place. "The man who was to respond to your signal...quit the field. I do not know why. The darkspawn won your battle." Morrigan stopped speaking and took a deep breath. "Those he abandoned were massacred. The king, as well as his army and most of your Grey Wardens were slaughtered."

...Ostagar, darkspawn blood, meeting Morrigan, the Joining, death, Tower of Ishal, battle, ogre, lighting the beacon...death...blackness...and now Morrigan.

King Cailan was dead, Duncan was dead, the army and the Wardens and probably even the Maker-forsaken servants were all dead.

"Mother managed to save you and your friend, though 'twas a close call."

Cecilia dared to cling to this single thin strand of hope like a cat with a ball of yarn. There was another survivor aside from herself. There was hope after all.

)O(

Alistair had never felt more betrayed in his life. Not when he finally learned who is father was and wondered why the king had abandoned him, not even when Lady Isolde pressured Arl Eamon to send Alistair to the Chantry and he inevitably relented because she always got her way. No, none of those things even came close to this pain. Teyrn Loghain had literally turned his back on them and let everyone just die. Duncan was the closest thing Alistair had to a father aside from Eamon and now he was gone. Everything was gone and the archdemon mocked him.

But at least Cecilia had made it. She was a Grey Warden now, and she was alive. That was all he needed to know at the moment. She had taken a rather nasty blow to the head when that ogre tossed her across the room like discarded bones though.

)O(

Cecilia had never felt more betrayed in her life. Not when her parents, the statues half sculpted from memory and imagination until she forgot which was which, had looked on as the templars took her away. Not when Jowan used blood magic to save Lily and not her only to abandon them both anyway. Not even when he lied to her face about the rumors not being true and begged for her help because if their friendship meant anything she would do this for him.

No, none of those things came even close to this pain.

But at least Alistair was alive. Yes, here they were, mage and templar and...apostate? Flemeth, the name given to the ancient Witch by the Wilds-dwelling Chasind folk, wanted her daughter to go with them on their quest to stop the Blight. Legends apparently spoke of Flemeth having many daughters, though Morrigan was the only one here, and Cecilia had never heard such tales. They were usually passed on orally, and if there wasn't a book about it in the Circle's library, chances are she didn't know much about it. All Cecilia knew was that this Witch must be very old and powerful, feared perahps reasonably so, and right now she was one of very few allies.

Morrigan knew some of her mother's spells. She valued power and survival over all else, and while she was more withdrawn than even the most timid of elves at the Tower, they needed all the help they could get.

The Blight did not stop for dead armies or regicide. It was a victory for the darkspawn, and there were only two Wardens left in all of Ferelden. They had to get out of the Korcari Wilds and devise a strategy. The treaties Flemeth had returned to them earlier - documents probably as ancient as the woman herself that obligated various factions to provide aid in the event of a darkspawn invasion - were still in their possession.

Not only that, but Alistair suggested they visit Redcliffe and apeal to the lord there. Arl Eamon hadn't been at Ostagar and thus still had his knights. Plus Alistair knew him personally. He was a good man, Cecilia was told, and wouldn't believe Loghain's story for a second.

There was hope after all.

"I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon and who knows what else, that sounds like an army to me." Flemeth remarked.

"So can we do this?" Alistair asked, faith growing in his tone. "Can we go to Redcliffe and these other place and build an army?"

"We have to try, at least." Cecilia replied.

Morrigan wasn't pleased to be so swiftly cast off into the company of strangers, but she would adapt just as the creatures' forms she had learned to take. She would survive, and with her help, so would they.

Lothering was to be their first stop; a potential safe haven where they could purchase supplies and get some news. How much time had Loghain had to spread his lies?

Cecilia found it difficult to imagine such a village. She remembered seeing a black-and-white rendering of a city in a book once. The charcoal buildings and people were frozen in time like statues. She had studied that illustration and tried to visualize where she'd come from before her own statue-like parents had let her go. Cecilia looked for their faces in the image, but found nothing familiar.

Lothering was not home either, not now.


	6. Pickles & Spiced Wine

"So am I to understand your fear of leadership is so paralyzing that you would permit a blind woman who also happens to be a mage to take on the responsibility instead? Very rebellious of you, templar."

"Hey, look! It's a dog!" Alistair exclaimed, ignoring Morrigan's barbed words and the glare that most certainly followed.

It was indeed a dog. More specifically, a Mabari war hound. Noble creatures that were respected by Fereldens since the days of King Calenhad and maybe even earlier. For as long as brave heroes had defended the lands, courageous war hounds fought by their side. It was said that Mabari were originally bred by mages to be almost as smart as humans and twice as perceptive. Their strength was an asset in battle as well as their loyalty to a single master. The Mabari would serve that person until one of them returned to the Fade, or if the hound was no longer needed.

Cecilia's contemplation of the four-legged warriors was cut short by the sudden pressure of two paws on her chest and one slobbery tongue licking her face.

"Ack! Down, boy, sit down!" she ordered. The hound stopped what it was doing and sat down obediently in front of her.

"I think he's chosen you." Alistair said, still laughing a little. "Mabari are like that. I think it's called imprinting."

So this hound had...imprinted on her. Why? Maybe it was the same dog she had helped to cure at Ostagar. It had been tainted by the darkspawn blood, and its only hope was a particular flower that grew in the Wilds. But how had it survived the battle? And for that matter, how had it tracked her down? Perhaps there was a chance it could sense Cecilia, like a Warden senses darkspawn. They did share the same tainted blood, after all.

"Now we have a mangy little mutt following us about, and Alistair is still the stupidest member of the party." Morrigan glowered, not at all happy with the idea of a domesticated wolf as a traveling companion. She preferred her animals wild and free, not as pets even if it was by choice.

"He's not mangy..." Alistair argued, once again ignoring the Witch's insults. "Have you given any thought as to what you're going to call him, Cecilia?"

The mage just smiled.

)O(

Pickles the Mabari proved to be an exceptional guide dog. It quickly became apparent that he understood her lack of sight and began watching out for her. He served as her eyes. It was after all what Cecilia needed most.

They walked along the Imperial Highway until they reached Lothering. There weren't many other travelers on the road save for a few refugees and the occasional merchant's caravan. Most of those fleeing the darkspawn had already made it to the village or else not at all.

Their party encountered a group of men on the road who had apparently set up a makeshift blockade outside Lothering. The men called themselves toll collectors, but Alistair and Morrigan had their doubts. They seemed more like thieves taking advantage of a dire situation in hopes of making a profit.

When she refused to pay the toll, the men attempted to threaten her.

"I am a mage, you know." Cecilia said evenly. "Are you sure you want to fight me?"

The bandit leader was getting nervous. "Considering that you could burn off my face, no. You don't have to pay. Enjoy your time in the village."

Cecilia was able to use the bandits' fear of her to get them to leave. She didn't want ot have to kill them, and the only authorities here were templars who would just execute them anyway. She might as well give them a chance.

The air in Lothering was filled with energy; fear mixed with desperation. It was the kind of place one went on the way to somewhere better. Very few came to Lothering specifically unless it was to trade. People lived there because they always had, or at least that is what she had read about the village.

The treaties remained their best if not only course of action. They would need allies, not only against Loghain but the archdemon as well. Not only were the Grey Wardens being accused of treason and regicide, with a sizable bounty on their heads, but people actually believed it. _"There's a nasty rumor going around that the Grey Wardens are evil and that they worship the archdemon,"_ the rumors went.

Cecilia, or more accurately her dog, led them to the local tavern. At very least they could get some news and maybe a hot meal or a drink. What they found however was not what she considered a warm welcome.

"Hey, doesn't that woman match the description we were given?"

The other soldiers, _Loghain's_ soldiers, nodded in confirmation. The man who seemed to be leading them moved closer to Cecilia, almost too close...

"Let's see," he said, his voice a low whisper. "Red hair; pale skin, probably from all those years cooped up in that mage tower of yours, eh?" he chuckled. "Ah, and blind as a bat, ain't ya?"

For a moment, Cecilia couldn't tell whether he wanted to kill her or kiss her, or maybe both. Regardless, something about this man made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"Please, gentlemen, there is no need to fight." spoke a woman with a thick foreign accent.

The accent reminded Cecilia of a girl whose family had immigrated from Orlais just months before she was captured and taken to the Circle.

Rosalie was her name, and she had a natural talent for herbalism. Always she could be found mixing potions, poultices, or salves with her delicate and impossibly smooth hands.

She was still seen as Orlesian, a nation that, just thirty years ago had fought a bloody war to keep its great empire. The victors of said war reclaimed the land in the name of Ferelden. It was for this reason that Rosalie was constantly ridiculed by the other apprentices who had grown up on rural farmholds in the heart of the Bannorn where patriotism was taught at a very young age.

They were all far from home, but hers was an ocean away.

Eventually the stress of studying for the Harrowing, combined with the other children's taunting words, became too much for her. Cecilia still remembered how the Orlesian girl had stared with those hallow, emotionless eyes. Her hands lacked all of their former grace as they laced lyrium with herbs in small flasks. She no longer hummed the songs of the mother country under her breath as she worked.

It was like losing someone to suicide, only the husk that had once been Rosalie still stalked the halls, and Cecilia wondered why she hadn't done something when she heard her crying in the stillness of the dormitory. Someone always cried at night, that was the reality of it, there were a million reasons for it. Instead Cecilia had merely rested her head against Petra's chest and drowned out Rosalie's sobbing with the beating of her heart.

"Enough!" the Orlesian woman demanded, and everyone froze where they were.

"I surrender..." the leader of Loghain's soldiers rasped. The fight hadn't been that difficult. Loghain had not sent his best men this time. The woman urged Cecilia to spare his life, and she agreed; she had a better idea anyway.

"You will return to Loghain," she ordered. "And you will tell him you were successful. You will tell him that the Wardens and everyone who traveled with us are dead."

They needed to keep a low profile, at least until they had more allies and could afford to be noticed. Right now, as she saw it, they had the element of surprise on their side. It was the one card they could play with the hand fate had dealt them.

"My name is Leliana," the woman who had helped fight off the soldiers introduced herself. "I am a lay sister of the chantry here in Lothering." _Ah, the Chantry..._

Cecilia could finally get a good feel for this Leliana's aura. What stood out to her immediately was the abstract _glow_ of faith. There was an expected amount of faith in her soul, but she lacked the usual innocence of most Chantry sisters. There was something else deep in her heart, a kind of not-quite-pure knowledge, and a very pure sadness and repressed fear she hid from the world. Mercy was a conscious choice she had made, but not her nature, at least not at the time. It was as if whatever had happened in her life, perhaps the reason she could fight like that, had planted the seeds of her unshakable faith and led her to the Chantry. Cecilia didn't ask.

But that wasn't the truly surprising thing either. What struck her as odd was that Leliana so readily offered up her soul for Cecilia to inspect, even if she wasn't entirely aware of it at that point.

She expected the sister to walk away, but she didn't. Instead she just stood there and stared, and Cecilia stared back at her but not really seeing her form as much as she was gazing into the center of her being. It felt entirely too personal.

And then Leliana asked to come with them, saying she'd had a vision from the Maker and that it had told her to follow them and stop the Blight and...Cecilia wasn't really listening to the words anymore. There was something about the way she spoke, her accent softened each syllable, sweetening the sound until it almost tasted like spiced wine. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't fascinating.

And so Cecilia allowed her to come along much to Morrigan's dismay, who was after all, only here because her mother had insisted. Leliana, on the other hand, giggled and grinned and practically threw her arms around Cecilia. She was acting more like a little girl who had just been told that she could have a sleepover with her best friend, something the mage had never actually done of course, as opposed to sleep on the cold hard ground and fight a war against beasts and men.

But they needed all the allies they could get right now, and so she would have to do.

They left Lothering before sundown, but not before saving a dwarven merchant and his son from a darkspawn attack. He was extremely grateful and insisted on providing them with a few tents as they were going to be traveling a great deal. Cecilia wasn't sure she was ready to return to the Circle Tower just yet, but if what the templar said was true, Greagoir would very well kill all the mages before she had a chance to stop it. Rumor had it that blood mages and abomination stalked the circular halls, it was the only thing that could be agreed upon. Some said the First Enchanter had turned into an abomination, led a revolt against the Chantry, and was then slain by Greagoir. She doubted this was true. If anything, it would be the long overdue rising up of the Libertarians.

She had to go for Petra's sake if nothing else.

)O(

**A/N: **My best friend of seven years told me to name the dog Pickles. Even though she will likely never read this story, I am a woman of my word.

Remember to review. The button is...down there somewhere. Right there. Look down and you will see it, then please click it and write something nice or critical, just be honest. Thank you for reading!


	7. Coming Home & Going Forward

A part of her was sad to leave. Lothering and its chantry had been her home for two years now. Maker, had it really been that long? The daily routine of life in the cloister made the days bleed into one another. And now, here she was.

There were kind, good people here, and it truly was a shame most of them would die. Leliana tried to give herself some peace in the knowledge that it was the Maker's will. Though, why He would take so many people who had already pledged their lives to Him was beyond her. She came to realize long ago that there existed a difference between having faith in the Maker and having faith in the Chantry. Her brothers and sisters, so lost in their devotion, scorned her for thinking this.

The Maker _she_ worshiped loved all His creation. There was a reason for everything that happened in this world. A reason for the betrayal that had brought Leliana to change her sinful ways, a reason for the Blight which made one appreciate the beauty that still remained, a reason for the events at Ostagar and the trouble in Lothering. It was the Maker's will, she knew from her vision.

Some, namely Morrigan, might call her crazy...but hadn't they always?

As they made their way from the village, Leliana did not look back. She kept her eyes forward. The Circle Tower was not yet visible but she knew it must be somewhere behind those clouds, alone on its little island in the center of Lake Calenhad...Were the people who lived there lonely too?

Leliana's eyes settled on the woman who led their little group, led by her fearless Mabari hound. She was one of the two remaining Grey Wardens in the nation, such a brave woman to take charge like that despite her...unique challenges. As a mage and a Warden, she had few friends in the world save for those that traveled with her...and Morrigan who didn't know the meaning of the word.

How did Cecilia feel about going back to the Tower?

Leliana knew it was only to fulfill the treaty obligating the mages to aid against the Blight, but she had heard the rumors of demons who possessed the living and the dead. Maleficarum were also said to be behind it all. The templars were considering destroying the Circle altogether and starting anew. She hoped they weren't too late, because if there were survivors they deserved to be given a chance, mage or otherwise.

It was funny really; Cecilia a mage and she a sister of the Chantry...Well, not anymore. In fact, Leliana had already given up her robes in favor of leather armor. It was much more practical, but timeless, like the priests' robes themselves. Despite the ever changing Orlesian fashions, those robes always stayed the same. Of course, the same could be said for the mages' robes as well...

It felt so odd to be wearing armor again. The leather was slightly constricting but liberating at the same time. The knowledge that she could run faster in armor and fight too…It was a strange feeling, and it frightened her. She had worked so hard to give all that up, but it seemed to be the Maker's will.

The wispy clouds had burned off while she wasn't looking. Now, much closer than Leliana had anticipated stood the Tower of Magi. From where they were standing it appeared to be abandoned, vigilantly keeping watch over the shore...And to think there was such wickedness taking place within those walls...She shivered, and not just because the leather armor wasn't nearly as warm as her robes had been.

Pickles the Mabari suddenly let out two informative barks.

"Good." Cecilia replied. "The sooner we get this over with the better." Then Leliana's keen ears caught something else, three murmured words that were scarcely audible: "_Hang on, Petra..._"

)O(

"Amell…"

It didn't take a bard to know that the Knight-Commander wasn't pleased to see her again.

"What happened here?" Cecilia asked.

"Does it matter now? The Circle is lost, abominations and blood mages everywhere, and from what I've heard the south has fallen to the darkspawn." he sighed. "Wynne doesn't believe what Teyrn Loghain says, that the Grey Wardens betrayed Ferelden, I mean. But frankly, considering the Warden-Commander actually thought it wise to recruit _you_, I wouldn't put it passed them."

"It's not true."

"So you say."

"Alistair and I are the only Wardens to survive Ostagar. I have come here to request the Circle's aid against the Blight. Now I will ask you again: what happened here?"

"So the apprentice is all grown up, _hmm?_" Greagoir shook his head and sighed. "I don't know what to believe anymore, Amell. One moment everything was fine and the next those..._things_ were...coming through the floor and the walls...Maker, they killed everyone, mage and templar alike. I led what few surviving templars I could find and sealed the exit."

Cecilia frowned. "Didn't you try to save _any mages?_"

"We couldn't risk..._something _getting out." he said. "So you understand, Amell, _there are no mages left to assist you._ It's over, we've lost, and the only thing we can do now is rebuild."

"The mages aren't helpless. Surely there must be some alive."

"And even if that were so, how could we trust that they weren't blood mages or know for certain whether or not they have demons inside them?" Greagoir's voice was rising. "No, I won't put everyone in danger. The Circle must be destroyed."

Leliana watched as the mage thought this over, eventually settling on the terrible realization that he may be right, judging from her expression. They had to try and save those who could be saved, didn't they? That was the right thing to do...

"If I help you," Cecilia was saying, her voice thin as glass, "I will need something in return."

"See to it that the abominations, blood mages, _and any survivors who may be a threat_ are dealt with...and I will see to it that myself and my men are ready when the time comes to battle the archdemon." he said. "Do we have a deal?"

She took a deep breath, and nodded.

)O(

The heavy doors closed behind them, and Cecilia heard the distinct _'click'_ of the key turning in the lock. She would bet those doors were thick enough to silence one's screams...

There was death all around them. The corridor was without a doubt filled with corpses of mages and templars both. The Veil was so thin there; she could almost make out the cries of spirits who had been cut down before their time, and trapped in that dismal gray place between the worlds yet somehow separate from them.

Beyond what she now thought of as the Hall of Lost Souls was the spacious room that led to both the library and the basement: the room where she had lay there in shock, covered in her best friend's blood, and been given a chance she didn't deserve.

"Child…? My word, I'm so relieved you made it out in time!" It was Wynne, the Senior Enchanter she had met at Ostagar.

"I could say the same about you." Cecilia pointed out; thankful that not all the mages were dead, not all was lost just yet. "You should know: Greagoir sent me to clear out the Tower. He said everyone had to die."

"You don't truly believe that, do you?" Wynne asked, alarmed. "Because if so I will not hesitate you kill you myself if it should come to that. Uldred will pay for what he has done here, even if I must die for it."

Uldred the Libertarian? Yes, it seemed a rebellion was the only explanation. The details weren't important right now. They didn't have much time.

"No, but he wouldn't have let me pass otherwise."

"I see," Wynne sighed. "Well, I guess I can understand that. I wouldn't have let you pass either if I knew you intended to destroy the Circle. The templars have sent for the Right of Annulment, haven't they?"

Cecilia nodded.

"Then we must act quickly. If I know Greagoir, he won't believe the situation is entirely under control until Irving says so."

"Then we have to find him."

"Yes. I will come with you as well, you will need a healer." Wynne said. "Now, I have been keeping the creatures at bay with a magical barrier that seals off the entrance to the library. I do not know what we will face beyond that point, but it has protected the children so far."

Cecilia knew what had to be done. "Pickles, I need you to stay here and look after everyone, okay?" She knelt down before the dog who whimpered uncertainly. "I know, boy, but the Tower is my home. Though there were fewer demons last time I was here. And I will have Alistair, Leliana, and Wynne to help me."

Morrigan had refused to take part in anything involving the Circle Tower. She was free, and would not set foot in such a place. She had compared the mages to cattle, but then said that Cecilia was slightly more than that, only because she wanted a favor. She asked the other mage to retrieve a grimoire once belonging to Flemeth before the templars got a hold of it. Such an item could be useful anyway.

"Petra, stay with the children, if you would." Wynne instructed her apprentice. This made Cecilia rise to her feet again, her jaw agape. Petra was alive and she hadn't even known it.

The younger mage protested, mostly because she was concerned about Wynne, but eventually agreed to do as she was told. As they prepared to head deeper and higher into the Tower, Cecilia felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Take care of her, won't you?" Petra whispered into her ear from behind.

"I think she can take care of herself." Cecilia pointed out.

"I'm serious, something happened before you arrived. A demon appeared out of nowhere and took me off guard. Healers aren't exactly trained for battle, but Wynne pushed me out of the way and defeated the beast, I don't know how.

"And when I opened my eyes, she was lying on the ground. She looked..._dead."_ the word came out as barely a whisper. "Something, maybe the demon, had drained all the life from her. I did everything she had taught me but to no avail. And then, miraculously, she started to come back. The color returned to her features and I could feel her pulse again.

"I just...I don't know if she is really up for this. She acts so strong all the time, but people don't have near death experiences and walk away from it quite the same. I know she won't admit it, but just please keep an eye on her, all right? For me?"

This was important to Petra, and so Cecilia agreed to do just that.

"I can't believe you're alive, by the way. It almost gives me hope."

"I could say the same about you." Cecilia retorted.

She wished they could talk more, but there wasn't time.

The other mage placed a discreet kiss on her cheek and the side of her neck before going off to look after the children, the youngest apprentices at the Circle.

Wynne removed the barrier of shimmering protective magic that had been ebbing away her energy to keep in place for this long.

"Are you scared?" Cecilia asked Leliana, sensing her hesitation.

"A little..." she admitted.

"It'll okay, Alistair was trained as a templar and Wynne is a skilled healer. Whatever trouble we may get into, it will be fine." She wasn't sure if she believed the lie, but it sounded plausible enough, and it made the Orlesian smile.

There was nowhere to go except forward.


	8. Yet Another Chance Meeting With Desire

**A/N: **In case you're wondering, the exact spells Cecilia uses are: Mind Blast, Mana Drain, Walking Bomb, and Crushing Prison in that order. I didn't want to just assume everyone knew what they did, because I sure didn't, so instead I described their effects.

Even though it's a pretty short chapter, I humbly ask that you review...please?

)O(

There was something in the woman's voice that was so earnest as she begged for her life with no real hope of mercy. It spoke to Cecilia, though this was a blood mage and according to the Chantry she was not to be trusted under any circumstances. Hadn't she already proven where her loyalties lie? What room was there for objectivity now?

"All I want is my life...I know I've no reason to expect you to allow me to walk away from this but..." the woman avoided meeting her eyes. "We never meant for things to get this out of control, Uldred just wasn't the same when he returned from Ostagar." _Who would be?_ "We were trying to free ourselves; the magic was a means to an end."

She regaled them with the sad tale of how he forced his followers to become maleficar and twisted shadows, devoid of their minds and humanity. The blood mage was convinced that he had also fallen prey to a demon. She knew he must be stopped, but was afraid to face him. Cecilia couldn't blame her for that, and so she gave the woman a second chance.

"Are you sure about this?" Alistair spoke up while Wynne looked on. They seemed to have come to a silent agreement of who should be the one to question her leadership. "I mean, blood magic is forbidden for a reason. She has killed people, Cecilia-"

"-She didn't have a choice. It was kill or be killed."_ And she was fighting for what she believed in._

"What she has done no longer matters." Leliana added, her delicate voice rising above the others'. "If she truly seeks redemption with a pure heart, who are we to deny her?"

She was right.

"I will seek penance at the Chantry, if I can escape." the blood mage said. "The Maker will smile upon you for your mercy."

"They'll never take you, you know." Alistair informed her. "Harlots, murderers, yes. Maleficarum? Oh no."

"Your comments portray your ignorance, Alistair." Leliana said. "The Chantry accepts all, regardless of what they have done."

"Then you must be referring to a different Chantry. The one I know wouldn't hesitate to drive a sword of mercy right through her heart."

He was right. But this wasn't really about her anyway. They needed to find Niall who hopefully had the Litany of Andralla which could be used against blood magic. Time was running out.

)O(

Desire had a templar caught under her spell.

"Everything is just as you wanted, my knight." she told him. "Our love and our family is more than you hoped for." Cecilia remembered that demonic yet velvety smooth voice. She spoke with lust, as if the demon too had tricked herself into believing this delusion she had tricked the templar with. Her aura was very bright, as she was a creature of the Fade and thus most of her being was pure energy, but there was also the dark corruption that all her kind had in common.

She was motivated by what all demons were: envy, malice, greed, the aspiration to be mortal and feel as mortals do. What she gave the templar was a false sense of happiness, but plenty of people walked around in the same blissful ignorance and no one thought anything of it unless there was a demon to blame. Still, Cecilia wasn't sure she could allow this to continue. Death would be the only way to free him.

"All emotion is intangible," Desire said sagely. "You cannot see it, you cannot grasp it. I have given him what no one else can."

"But you are deceiving him!" Leliana exclaimed. "This is unholy."

"But he is happy," Cecilia pointed out. "Even though that happiness is an illusion. He does not know that. There are worse fates."

"I suppose..." the Orlesian pursed her lips. "It is sort of a good thing, but...something about this just makes me shiver, you know?"

She allowed the demon to keep her pet, though Cecilia was getting tired of these tests of her morality.

)O(

Cecilia knew this was a demon of sloth. She had met one much like it in the Fade during her Harrowing. The longer she remained in his presence, she realized, the harder it was to keep her eyes open. Her companions faced the same difficulty.

"Why do you fight?" Sloth asked her, slowly. "You deserve a rest...The world will go on without you..."

Her body gave in to the exhaustion and her spirit receded into the dream realm. Cecilia's mind watched as her friends' auras were pulled in different directions, away from her own. The demon was trying to keep them apart, but why? What did he gain from all this anyway?

That was the last thing she remembered before her eyes fluttered open. She was lying naked in a soft white bed made for two people. Sunlight filled the room from a nearby window that overlooked the sea. Even curiouser still, was that she was no longer blind.

"Good morning." Petra greeted her. She was clad in a silk robe that emphasized her curves. "Did you sleep well?"

"I had a nightmare." _And apparently I haven't woken up from it yet,_ she thought to herself._ My Petra never starts a conversation like a normal person._

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Petra moved closer to the bed, placing a kiss on her lips. There was something wrong about that, too.

"Don't you think I know where I am?"

She froze, but didn't even blink, still smiling sweetly. "Of course I do." Petra said. "You're on a ship headed to Orlais. I hear it's just lovely there, and we have wanted to go for quite some time now. I think we will be very happy there."

_Orlais...?_ Memories of another redheaded woman flooded her mind. And with them came memories of the Tower, blood mages, demons...Cecilia suddenly knew without a doubt where she was.

"You're thinking about _her_, aren't you?"

"Oh, don't look so offended." Cecilia smirked. "I'm already cheating on Petra with a demon."

Suddenly the image before her was not Petra, but the true form of Desire herself. She lunged at Cecilia, pinning her to the bed, forcing her to look directly into those deep violet eyes.

"It could have been perfect," she sneered, but Cecilia was about to dignify that with a response. Instead, she summoned all her will, drawing power from the raw energies of the Fade, and projected a wave of telekinetic force that stunned Desire just long enough for Cecilia to push her away. The demon fell onto the wood floor and lay there for a moment. She took this opportunity to drain Desire's mana and magically infect her with a corrosive poison. If she played her cards right, this could be interesting. The mage finished it off by enclosing the demon in a collapsing cage of telekinetic energy, where she remained trapped until Cecilia's spell caused the last of her life force to finally ebb away.

She took cover beneath the blanket as the poison in Desire's veins did its job. The demon's body exploded in a cloud of blood that stained every surface. When she chanced a look, there was blood splattered everywhere, including the once spotless white bed. As the demon weakened, the world she had created for Cecilia begin to erode around her. Now it was little more than the bloodied sheets and what was left of Desire's corpse.

But Cecilia still had her eyes, at least for now. That was something.

She would have to find a way to defeat Sloth and it probably wouldn't be easy. It was very likely he had her companions trapped in dreams or nightmares of their own. She would have to free them too, find a way out of the Fade, and save the Circle.

But first and foremost, she would need to find something to wear.


	9. Cecilia's Adventures In Dreamland

"There's always an obstacle," Niall the Isolationist said, "A wall of fire or a door that shows you freedom through a keyhole that no key will fit." _Mad dream things indeed,_ thought Cecilia. "But that doesn't matter now. This place drains you of everything...hope, fear, life...Even now the Sloth demon feeds on us to fuel the nightmares of this realm."

He wasn't going to be much help. Niall had already given up. But Cecilia knew there had to be a way. The runes signified islands of Sloth's realm. Demons had there own hierarchies, Niall explained, and it was all a game where the mortals were used as pawns or perhaps even bargaining chips. If she wanted to get out of this place, she would have to kill the lesser demons that guarded each island. She would have to free her friends and defeat Sloth.

She stood now in the raw Fade. Above her was a kind of sky thick with grotesque green clouds, and not far but somehow always out of reach was the Black City. It was the single point that everything, including the mortal plain, revolved around.

Supposedly, it was once a city of gold, the throne of the Maker Himself. That is, until mages decided they wanted it for themselves. What a foolish tale it was.

Everything was so much brighter than she remembered it…

She walked through a sort of portal that transported her to another part of the raw Fade. Here she found a rage demon tormenting a little mouse who cried for help. Talking animals were not that odd, especially since they weren't animals at all, but dreamers. After all, she had met a mouse in the Fade during her Harrowing.

She killed the creature, which wasn't much of a challenge considering rage demons were not that smart. The mouse thanked Cecilia and told her to kill the guardian, Yevena, who ruled this island and protected her master. He begged her to free the others. Then he was gone, and she had the strangest urge to hide in the shadows.  
_  
"Is it possible to change shape like you do?"_ Cecilia had asked Mouse once.

_"Maybe,"_ he'd said, _"but it's not easy. You have to forget who you are first."_

Suddenly her body was engulfed in light as her cells began to shift. The transformation had begun. She was becoming a mouse. It wasn't as painful as she expected. Cecilia still possessed the same level of human consciousness, only now she wanted to cower and watch. Not to mention she had the most bizarre craving for cheese...

That was when she noticed the little holes. Instinctively, Cecilia darted towards one, hoping she was just small enough to fit through. There must have been some magic involved because the moment she entered the mouse hole Cecilia found herself right back where she had started, with Niall.

He was excited to know that it was possible to make some progress after all. Maybe she could learn other forms, find a way to walk through the flames without getting burned or break down the doors that it would take at least twenty men to open.

_"You hide from the big things, learn from the little things."_ Mouse had told her. But now was not the time for running and hiding, not when Sloth still held her companions captive.

)O(

The first island was a maze crawling with darkspawn. She had to fight her way through and find the right mouse holes. At last, Cecilia came across a madman. He gave her the power to see the invisible doors. This meant she could now slay the queen of the raw Fade.

Unfortunately, she was not yet strong enough to get passed the final door in this place. Whatever lay beyond it was big and angry. The key was surely in another realm then.

The next island was on fire. The smoke chocked Cecilia's lungs and made her eyes water. This proved to be rather distracting when trying to fight off a group of flaming templars. Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she found the dreamer who gave her rage. The form would help her to pass the fire-barriers and burn her enemies to a crisp.

Cecilia's first thought upon being transported to the third realm was that it looked a great deal like the Circle Tower. Mages, Chantry priests, and massive beings made of stone that vaguely reminded her of the ancient dwarven war golems she had seen in a book once, face her in combat. When she found her way through the circular prison her reward was a powerful abomination, Sloth's minion no doubt. The bright side was that a man there gave her his strength, allowing Cecilia to take the form of a golem, which meant she could get through those heavy doors and slay whatever monster Sloth was keeping on the first island.

_An ogre.._.

No wonder Alistair hadn't wanted to describe it to her…She would never be able to forget that image.

Each form provided Cecilia with new abilities, and even when she stood over the body of the last of the Sloth demon's protectors, she knew the fight was just beginning.

It was time to rescue her friends and slay the beast once and for all. Perhaps they even had a chance.

)O(

It was a quaint house, one or maybe two rooms, made of wood and decorated with simple furnishings. In her mouse form, she could easily hide from any humans or demons who might wish to harm her until she had assessed the situation at hand. This was someone's dream, she knew, and...

..._Cheese_...

The table was covered with cheese! How had she not noticed it before? Cecilia cautiously approached the nearest piece of cheese and was about to take a bite when a voice rang out from above. She didn't need to hear his voice to know it was him though, because she recognized his aura, even though she had never actually seen him before.

"Hey there, little guy, are you hungry?" Alistair scooped her up in his hand and looked at her closely, smiling. "You should be more careful, you know, it would be a shame if one of Goldanna's cats were to get to you first."

He gently set her down on the chair beside him and handed her a small bit of cheese which Cecilia eagerly nibbled on. Then she remembered what she had come here to do, and quickly shifted back into her true form. Alistair's eyes widened.

"Oh, it's you!" he gasped. "I was just thinking about you, isn't that a marvelous coincidence? Hey, you didn't happen to see a little mouse just a moment ago, did you?"

Before she could respond, however, a woman appeared from out of nowhere and stood behind Alistair's chair in what almost seemed like a protective stance. She too smiled in that sugary sweet way demons do.

"Alistair, who is this woman?" she demanded.

"Oh, well, this is...uh..." He didn't remember who she was, did he?

"I'm Cecilia, and you must be Goldanna, the woman with the cats."

"This is my sister." Alistair said, beaming.

"I'm so thrilled to have my little brother back." Goldanna added. Cecilia didn't understand how he didn't see through her facade. She took a deep breath, and began to speak.

"Alistair, listen to me," she started. "We are in the Fade. The Sloth demon has trapped us here, and I need you to fight or else we will never get free and save the Circle so we can bring Loghain to justice and stop the Blight. Do you understand?"

He looked at her like she was speaking another language. "Goldanna is making supper." he said. "Can you stay, Cecilia?"

"No, and neither can you." she shook her head. "That woman is a demon, Alistair. Don't you remember Ostagar? I need you to think very hard here, okay? Something isn't right, is it? I'm supposed to be blind. Aren't you wondering why I can see you, or why I have come all this way to tell you these things?"

The templar was silent for a long time. He looked at her and Goldanna and then back again.

"Cecilia...?" he breathed, and she smiled, knowing she had finally gotten through to him.

"Do not listen to this woman, _dear brother._" the demon posing as his sister warned. "She clearly isn't right in the head."

He jumped up as she tried to touch him, practically hiding behind Cecilia. Then the demon was upon them, as well as several demonic children and kittens. Alistair was practically useless in the fight considering he didn't have a weapon. When it was done, he merely stared down at the creature that was once Goldanna.

"I'm so stupid." he stated.

"No you're not; you're just not a mage." Cecilia assured him. "I've seen people fooled by much less."

Alistair smiled, then he slowly disappeared, and she moved on to the next of her companions' nightmares.

)O(

She was back in the Circle Tower, only this time there were more bodies of mages lying twisted and mangled on the ground. It looked as if someone had tried to put everything in order again...and then she realized who it was. There, in the center of all this destruction, was Wynne. She knelt over the body of an elven apprentice.

"Why...?" she asked to no one. "Why was I spared if not to save them? What meaning does my life have now?"

"Don't believe it, Wynne." Cecilia warned, realizing that a direct approach would work better here. How did she not see it? Wynne was a mage after all.

"How can I when the dead are all around me?" she stood up and tears began to fall. "I have failed...I have failed them all..."

"You didn't fail. The Circle can still be saved, but you have to try and remember how you got here. Do you recall the demon that put you to sleep? You told us we had to resist. It's playing a trick on you, Wynne, and now I'm telling you to resist whatever this feeling is. None of it is real."

And then the dead began to rise and Cecilia and Wynne had to defeat them. at least she knew the truth now.

The healer vanished just as Alistair had. There was one last person to visit before she faced Sloth: Leliana.

)O(

It was a little less awkward being in a chantry since she knew no one could see her. Yet again, being able to transform into a mouse at will was to her advantage. Cecilia followed the sound of the Chant until she found the Revered Mother's study.

"The one who repents, who has faith, unbroken by the darkness of the world, she shall know true peace." spoke Leliana. It was the first Cecilia had ever been able to see the Orlesian, and she was...beautiful: Vivid red hair, flawless porcelain skin, lovely full lips, and the deepest and most captivating blue eyes. Her beauty rivaled that of Petra herself.

Cecilia had lost concentration and switched back to her human form once more. Now Leliana and the Revered Mother both looked at her strangely.

"What are you doing here?" the old woman asked, but it was hardly a question.

"I would like to speak to Sister Leliana alone, please."

"Do you know this person, Leliana?" she asked much more kindly, her eyes never leaving the Orlesian's, who shook her head. She didn't remember either. "Then I will have to ask you to leave. You are interrupting her meditation." It was time to improvise.

"But I am in danger!" the mage made her case quickly. "She is the only one who can help me. Please, your Reverence, just five minutes! I beg you!" The demon of course was not moved by her plea, but Leliana was.

"You have five minutes." the Revered Mother said. She and Leliana had argued quietly amongst themselves and the Orlesian apparently won. The old woman stood up and left the room. Cecilia wasn't about to waste this precious time.

"I know about your vision." she told her. "I know that some of the people here don't believe you. They call you crazy, don't they?"

The other woman's eyes widened. "How...?" she trailed off.

"Because I saw it, too. The Maker has chosen us, Leliana, we alone must stem the tide of evil. But I need you to trust me, okay? You have to remember. Try this for me."

Memories rushed back to Leliana, and a moment later the demon appeared in the doorway. The Orlesian watched in stunned silence as Cecilia pinned the creature against the wall with a strong telekinetic wave and a magical weapon controled by her mind that was invisible to the naked eye. She closed her beautiful blue eyes and Cecilia she might start crying.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked, and do not falter." she said evenly, calmly, almost dreamily.

Like those before her, the lay sister faded to nothing. With all of her party members set free, the mage could finally go after the demon who had held them all hostage. Even if it did mean she would be blind once again.

)O(

"And what do we have here?" Sloth taunted. "A disobedient pet…? An escaped slave…? Pity that you have managed to get this far only to be taken right back…I promise to try harder this time though." he smiled, and she could see all of his teeth. "I will make you..._much_...happier..."

At least she wasn't alone in this. Her companions somehow found their way here from the nightmares she had released them from. They stood ready to fight against this creature. Sadly, they did not have the advantage of being able to shapeshift into its different forms. The Sloth demon took many forms during the battle, and for each one Cecilia had something prepared.

Opposition for all things: when he was fire, she was ice. For once it came down to the essential elements instead of the things one could not see.

Niall was in disbelief that they had actually managed to succeed. It was too late for him, he said, the Sloth demon had already drained too much of his life force before she arrived. He was as good as dead, but the Litany of Adralla could still be of some use against the blood mages. The Circle could still be saved. There was hope after all.

The fight was not yet over, but Cecilia would gladly face whatever awaited them back on Thedas if it meant she could leave this Maker forsaken place.


	10. Pride & Heartbreak

**A/N:** This is a short chapter, folks, just over a thousand words. So please review!

)O(

The first thing Cecilia's senses registered was the cold stone beneath her. Sloth may have gone to great lengths to make her spirit comfortable, but not her body, which lay sprawled out on the Tower floor. Her companions weren't far from her either. Everyone began to stretch there aching limbs and recover from the horrors they had seen in the Fade. For a moment, they all forget just how dire the situation really was.

"I do believe we all owe Cecilia a great deal for her bravery and timely rescue." Wynne said. "It must have been quite difficult to escape that creature's domain." _You have no idea..._

"No need to repay me." the Spirit mage replied. "I just want to find Uldred and be done with all this."

Just as Niall said, the Litany of Adralla was still on his body. It would protect them against the worst of the blood magic, prevent their mind from being corrupted and turning them into abominations. But most importantly, it would protect the mages that had survived, if there were any.

"Leliana? Don't you want to see the exciting conclusion?" Alistair asked when he realized that the Orlesian hadn't moved a muscle. Everyone was already headed towards the door.

"Huh? Oh, yes, how silly of me." she laughed. It was nervous laughter. "I was just...distracted is all. Sorry to...keep you all waiting."

_What had she been thinking about?_ Cecilia could only guess. The memory of how Leliana had looked in the Fade was still fresh in her mind, and she did not want to forget it anytime soon. There was just something so...radiant about her as she knelt in prayer, the Chant of Light falling from her lips so admirably because she truly _believed_ what she was saying.

Cecilia finally understood what Jowan had meant when he said that he fell in love with Lily the moment he heard her speaking the Chant.

)O(

It seemed the templar who was in love with her, Cullen, had survived Uldred's revolt. He was imprisoned by magic, a magic she had never seen before, and he believed that Cecilia was an illusion. It took her some time to convince him otherwise.

"The only way to ensure this ends here," Cullen insisted, "is to kill everyone in the Harrowing Chamber. _All_ the mages must die, not just Uldred, or else they could become..._abominations_."

"I can't do that, Cullen, I am a mage." Cecilia replied calmly.

"But you haven't seen what he is doing! You don't know what those monsters are capable of. If you allow even one to live, you would be putting everyone in danger!" In response, she merely shook her head. "And to think I once thought we were too hard on you." the templar muttered.

And so she ascended the stairs to the very top of the Tower. The Harrowing Chamber was filled with dark magic...Uldred forced people to become abominations. The Veil had nearly been ripped to shreds, allowing demons to enter this realm freely and take a human host. _Parasites_...and one of them had clearly gotten to Uldred as well, turning him into something...not human.

"A mage is but the larval form of something greater," he explained. "Just imagine your talent with the strength of a demon behind it. You would be unstoppable!"

"But I wouldn't be free." Cecilia pointed out. No one valued freedom more than a mage after all.

The beast was holding Irving hostage. For what purpose, she did not know. Perhaps it was more fun to wait until the mortals finally broke and agreed to serve you than it was to overpower them. The First Enchanter told them Uldred was building an army, and that he must be stopped.

The time for talking was over. The demon that possessed Uldred revealed its true form. It was a creature of pride, of fury, and it would not stop until it had won.

The Litany of Adralla countered Uldred's attempts to control the minds of his prisoners. Cecilia could hardly believe they were managing to kill his servants and wound him. But all that meant nothing if the Veil could not be repaired. Demons would just keep coming otherwise until eventually they overwhelmed the Tower's weakened defenses. She took it upon herself to mend the Veil. Perhaps it was a mistake.

_The true tests never end..._

Cecilia had never done this before, and naturally she underestimated just how difficult it was. Sealing the gaping hole that led to the Fade took virtually everything she had. It drained her of every last drop of magic, but if she stopped now the consequences would be worse...

"Just a few more seconds..." she told herself, praying that she could hold the spell that long. Her body sacrificed its own energy, to the point where her heart nearly gave out.

When it was finished, and what was left of Uldred lay dead, she too crumpled to the floor.

"Is she...?" Irving could not bring himself to say it.

"She is alive," Wynne assured them all. "But she is very weak. It will take time for her to fully recover."

Cullen was no longer the naive boy infatuated with the idea of a woman he could not have. He knew better now. Beneath her beauty was a terrible evil. And yet, when he saw them carry her unconscious body out of the Harrowing Chamber for the second time, the fist being her actual Harrowing, something in his heart softened. She didn't look evil, she just looked so...tired and vulnerable...Cecilia was nothing like the others, but he supposed she never had been.

)O(

Leliana hovered in the doorway of the apprentice quarters where all the survivors were staying while the Tower was made fit for inhabitance again. She watched as Cecilia slept, keeping an eye on her. She figured it was least she could do considering the mage was always watching out for them.

Soon, Cecilia even begun to waken. It was miraculous and the first thing Leliana wanted to do was tell her how glad she was that the other woman was okay. But someone else was already talking to her, and even though Leliana knew it was impolite to eavesdrop, curiosity got the better of her.

"Wynne has asked for leave to follow you on your quest to stop the Blight." Petra, the woman who had been left in charge of the children whilst they stormed the Tower, said quickly. It seemed like an odd thing to say to someone who had almost died.

"Still haven't changed, hm?" Cecilia observed, smiling.

"Who? Me or Wynne?"

"You..." Silence passed between them. "You could come with us, you know."

Petra laughed. "You already have Wynne. Besides, I'm needed here." she said. "I always knew you were destined for great things, CeCe."

"I don't know when I'll be back..."

"I know. It's okay, things are different now. I understand." she said quietly. "I just want you to be happy."

"So this..._we_...can't work?" It was a question, but also a statement.

_No._

The unspoken word hung in the air and neither of them said anything, but it was the words they didn't say that spoke loudest. They kissed one another and then Leliana looked away, her heart pounding with the excitement of knowing things she should not.

"I guess it's true what they say," a voice said, startling her. "You really can't get any privacy in the Circle Tower."

Leliana turned to see none other than Cecilia, and she didn't look very happy at all.


	11. The Past Which Haunts Us

**A/N:** Some of you have asked about Sten, and I apologize for not answering your questions sooner. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against him, but I just don't think Cecilia would go to such great lengths to save a mage-hating qunari guilty of murder. Feel free to review and tell me that I'm wrong.

)O(

Most non-mages understand very little about magic aside from what the Chantry tells them, thus they live in fear of it. When children begin to show _signs_, they practice the form of magic that comes naturally to them. For most people it is Primal spells: fire, ice, earth, and sometimes lightning. Thsi is what the templars and all new parents look for. But when Cecilia was very young, she could move things without touching them and see things that weren't there. She was smart enough to know that she was different from other children, and so she told no one.

Her dreams became more and more vivid, almost as real to her as the waking world. As she grew more and more isolated, her parents grew more and more concerned. Eventually, they took Cecilia to talk to someone: the Revered Mother of their local chantry. The entire time she spoke with the priestess, templars were listening intently, for they feared that any abnormality could somehow point to the arcane, or worse, the demonic.

"My daughter…a mage? But that's impossible! She hasn't set anything on fire or..."

"Not all magic is so obvious, Mr. Amell." The man in plate armor Cecilia had seen in the chantry was talking to her father, while she eavesdropped on the conversation from the top of the stairs. "Spirit magic, for example, is often found in those who are more connected to the Fade than the rest of us, even more so than other mages. They may experience: clairvoyance, telekinesis, and lucid dreams. It is rare that one shows these abilities without proper training. So rare, in fact, that few suspect anything. Even the Spirit mage themselves could remain completely unaware that they are doing magic for years, sometimes decades."

Cecilia's parents sat in stunned silence for some time after that. The little girl cautiously took a half step down the staircase towards them. She stopped when her father began to speak again.

"Are you suggesting...?" he trailed off, unable to even form the words.

The templar nodded. "The Revered Mother certainly seemed to think so." he said. "But why don't you ask Cecilia yourself?"

Suddenly all eyes turned in her direction. She felt like she had done something wrong and now thye were angry with her. What had she done to upset them? Her father asked if she had been truthful when talking to the priestess and she insisted that she had. Then her mother started crying and Cecilia didn't understand why.

"Do you know why I'm here?" the templar asked. She didn't. "I am here to take you to a place where you will learn to read and write and develop your...talents. There are people just like you in the Tower. You won't be alone anymore."

That sounded nice, but... "Am I in trouble? Why is Mommy so sad and why is Daddy so angry? Will I ever see them again? How long will I be away for?"

He frowned. "You shouldn't ask so many questions. All I can say is that you will understand in time, and you are _not_ in trouble. None of this is your fault."

She believed him.

The kind templar led her outside where another man in matching plate armor waited. He looked more stern and spoke much less. Cecilia heard him scold the other templar for being too soft, to which he replied that someone had to be.

Cecilia's mother just cried as she left the village in the company of the templars. Her father for whatever reason couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. Ironically, this was one of the few memories she still had of them, but the picture faded more and more each day.

She had never seen anything quite so grand as the Circle Tower. The ferryman, Kester, took them across Lake Calenhad to the small island where it stood, waiting.

A man who spoke in a flat voice showed Cecilia to the Apprentice Dormitory. There was something unnerving about it. It wasn't the way he looked at her with such cold, absolute indifference in his eyes. No, it was the fact that she felt nothing when he was near. There was no bright energy about him. He performed tasks methodically, almost mechanically, and without question nor complaint. In short, this man was the opposite of everything she knew a person was supposed to be.

"I can heal that for you." someone announced proudly.

She met a girl who was more than she ever imagined a person could be. She smiled and took Cecilia's hand and a blue light flashed briefly between their clasped hands. The Spirit mage blinked when she realized that the paper cut that had been there a moment ago was gone.

"How did you...?"

"Magic, of course!" the girl said, grinning. "I'm gonna be a great healer. Well, that's what my mentor says anyways. I'm guessin' you're not studying Creation then. Primal spells? _Entropy…_?"

"Uh...Spirit magic."

"Ohh, you're a Fade-walker. That's _rare_!" There was a short pause. "My name's Petra." she said.

"I'm Cecilia."

And just like that, she had made her frist friend at six years old. In time she would meet a boy named Joawn who quickly became her best friend, while Petra was something more. The rest is history, as they say.

)O(

It had been a day since they had left the Tower with Irving's word that the mages would aid them against the Blight. A day since she had felt strong enough to do anything after mending the torn Veil. Two days since she and Petra had ended their relationship.

She still wasn't speaking to Leliana, on principle if nothing else. Currently the Orlesian's aura hovered somewhere on the edge of camp, as far away from Cecilia as possible. Wynne was resting in her tent, Morrigan was eagerly perusing Flemeth's grimoire Cecilia had found in Irving's office, and Alistair was out collecting firewood.

Redcliffe was to be their next stop. Rumor had it the arl there was gravely ill and Alistair said that he was a good man whose assistance could be invaluable. And he was a noble. It would be useful to have such an influential voice on their side.

"Cecilia..." Leliana had managed to sneak up on her yet again. She ignored her. "Fine, you don't have to talk, just listen. I lied to you about why I left Orlais. It wasn't because I wanted a change of scenery...I was being hunted."

Cecilia knew at that moment that she would have to say something.

"Who was hunting you?" she asked quietly.

"In Orlais, not all minstrels are just storytellers and musicians. Some of them are what we call bards. They work as spies and sometimes even assassins for the nobility. I got caught up in that life when I was very young, because it was exciting, and it felt good to be doing something important for someone else. I didn't like some of the things I was asked to do, but I did them anyway because...well...

"My mentor's name was Marjolaine. She taught me everything I know and would have done anything for her, because I loved her and I thought she loved me. I was framed. Marjolaine had been selling information about Orlais to other countries. This was treason, and I did not wish to see her harmed. I begged her to change her plans and she did...Marjolaine altered the documents to make me look the traitor."

"Why would she do that?" Cecilia wondered.

"If only I had an answer. Obviously she didn't care about me the way I cared about her. I was tortured...but I managed to escape and flee to Ferelden. I like to think the Maker brought me here, and that He wants me to follow you now on your journey. The reason I'm telling you this is because I want you to know that I trust you, even if you have no reason right now to trust me."

"Leliana, you're not the only one whose ever been betrayed by someone you thought you could trust. Compared to that, listening in on my private conversations doesn't even matter." the mage smiled. "I do trust you, and thank you for telling me this." She stood up and offered a hand to Leliana. "Now, you and I are on first watch. You can be my eyes. I'll be able to sense any darkspawn you can't see before they can catch us off guard."

And so the two remained under the stars, talking of mundane things until one of them fell asleep, usually Leliana.


	12. New Beginnings & Old Friends

**A/N:** Hello again! Sorry for the delay. I've been absolutely buried in work for the last two weeks or so, and this week I took a vacation from everything, including writing. However, I have written a few oneshots that can be found in my story, Obsession, for those of you that don't know. *shameless plug*

I'd like to thank all my readers and reviewers for their patience. Merry Christmas/Yule/Other Winter Holiday to you!

)O(

Zevran Arainai was fairly certain he had broken quite a few strict Crow rules in a matter of moments.

One, he failed to kill his target. He had underestimated the blind woman's ability to weave her spells as well as her companions' strength and determination to protect her. Though, one couldn't exactly say his heart had been invested in the joke of an assassination attempt. Their plan was doomed from the start: dressing a mage up like a commoner and luring the Grey Wardens into a trap. Of course the blind women, being a mage herself, would have suspected something from the beginning. Though, that had been the idea. Perhaps it wasn't fair to bring his fellow Crows along on his suicide mission, but it was only a matter of time before they earned the guild's ire for one reason or another and turned up dead.

Zevran did not expect to wake up at all, let alone tied up with rope that dug into his skin. He wasn't one to complain though; the Crows would have done much worse. The blind mage, Cecilia she called herself, agreed to hear him out. And so he told her everything. How he came to be a Crow but was never free to choose a different path. The other red haired woman explained all about the guild and how they practically rule Antiva. She said this in the most charming Orlesian accent that he wasn't really listening. Then he mentioned Teyrn Loghain, the man who wanted them dead. Yes, they knew all about that, it seemed.

The Crows would have killed him if they knew. One was never to give up any information that belonged to them even under the threat of torture, death, or fates far worse than both.

Zevran figured that if he was going to break the rules, he might as well be thorough. And so he offered to serve this Cecilia person and her friends in exchange for his life. He expected that she would simply end it right there, refuse and let him go, or kill him. It wasn't as if he was in much a position to fight now. Not that he wanted to. The part of him that had brought him to Ferelden hoping to die was still there, but it was quieter now since he had come so close to the reality of death, closer than ever before.

It was a good thing that Cecilia accepted his offer, because the Crows would have killed him at least three times over if they ever found him. They did not take kindly to betrayal.

Not to mention, she was rather beautiful. Perhaps there was potential in this arrangement after all.

)O(

Cecilia rather hoped Redcliffe Castle was as accommodating as the knight in Lothering had claimed. Being hunted by darkspawn and assassins lost its novelty long ago. Even the Tower was better than sleeping on the cold hard ground. But complaining wasn't very productive anyway. They were only a little more than a day from reaching Redcliffe and its warm castle where Arl Eamon supposedly was dying...

She was startled by a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, can we...talk?" It was Alistair. She could sense that he was nervous about something. The mage obligingly signaled for Pickles to stop walking, causing the entire party to stop where they were.

"Sure," she said, giving him her full attention.

Alistair cleared his throat and began to speak impossibly fast. "Remember how I told you that Arl Eamon raised me even though I was the bastard son of a serving girl at Redcliffe Castle and then he sent me off to the Chantry at the request of Lady Isolde? Well, the reason he did that was because...my father was King Maric."

Cecilia felt like she had been struck. She thought back to the glimpse of him she had seen in the Fade and compared it to a portrait of the late king that hung in the Tower. Yes, they did share many common Theirin features. How had she not realized this before? What a fool she was. This could either be an extreme liability or a tactical advantage. Skipping across Ferelden with a wanted murderer, an apostate, an assassin, and two Grey Warden, one of whom just happened to be the rightful heir to the throne, tended to draw the attention of more than just darkspawn.

"Please say something," Alistair was pleading. "You hate me now, don't you? I should have told you and I'm very sorry. But there hasn't exactly been a good time to just...blurt it out and I don't know..."

"I don't hate you." Cecilia assured him. "But it was rather dangerous not to bring it up. So, no more secrets, okay?" She said this knowing that there were certain things she was still keeping from him.

Alistair looked slightly worried for a moment, and then smiled. "Yeah, no more secrets, I promise."

He was uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the journey into Redcliffe Village.

)O(

It was just like coming home again, except with more undead...

Bann Teagan, the Arl's brother, told them of horrible creatures that attacked the village in greater numbers each night. They dragged off those they killed and something turned them into walking corpses as well; the work of demons most likely.

Luckily, it didn't take much persuading for Cecilia to agree to aid in the fight and save Redcliffe. After that, Bann Teagan said, they could find a way into the castle and rescue Arl Eamon and his family. Or, whoever was left anyway.

The creatures were indeed horrible but also disorganized. They were weakened by the flames and Cecilia's shimmering magical...thing. And they were no match for the handful of trained knights who had returned from their unsuccessful search for the Arl's cure. The villagers themselves served as a somewhat trained militia of desperate men ready to give their lives to protect their families, who were safe in the chantry.

The sun rose slowly, illuminating a bloodied battlefield where dead men and twice-killed corpses littered the ground. They would have to be burned to prevent stragglers of their kind from dragging the bodies back to their demonic master and resurrecting them once more. Not to mention, someone had to send their souls back to the Maker. The sunrise was the most beautiful and hopeful sight Alistair had ever set eyes on. He felt sorry for Cecilia who was unable to see it.

People made their way out of the chantry in a daze. Some of them were embraced by their loved ones who had survived the battle. Others stood in silence, gazing down at a particular dead body with clear recognition in their eyes. Those who had done their grieving in nights past set to work on the unpleasant task of burning the corpses that no one mourned.

"Teagan!"

Then Alistair heard a voice that had caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up for as long as he could remember. The very sound of it made him flinch with the expectation of the usual venomous words. But instead, Lady Isolde's tone was one of desperation and pure fear.

She was afraid for the life of her husband and the sanity of her son. The Arlessa begged Bann Teagan to return with her to the castle. More alarming still was that she insisted he go alone. Alistair saw several red flags go up in Cecilia's mind. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe the demon had done something to Isolde. Maybe...

"Here's the plan," Teagan said. "I will go into the castle and...distract whatever evil is inside. In the meantime, you must sneak in using a secret tunnel accessible only by my family."

"And do what, exactly?" Cecilia wanted to know. She was not pleased with this plan at all. It was reckless and stupid and the only option they had.

"I wish I knew." Teagan admitted. "Whatever happens, Eamon is the priority. Isolde, Connor, I, and anyone else are...expendable. I want you to promise me that you will do everything in your power to save him, even if it means sacrificing the rest of us."

"I..." the mage was finding it difficult to do this. "I can't promise that. I will save whoever can be saved."

Teagan merely smiled. "You are truly a gift from the Maker, my lady," he said.

As they made there way into the castle, they encountered little resistance from any of the walking dead. The tunnel ostensibly led to the dungeon which led to the basement which led to the rest of the great stone structure.

There were a few corpses tormenting a prisoner who was trapped in his cell. Alistair was reminded of the time he had locked himself in one of these very cells and been forgotten for an entire day. Bann Teagan, who was visiting at the time, had been the one to find him there. Eamon tried for weeks to make it up to him while Isolde looked on with icy disdain. She was and perhaps always would be resentful of the rumors that pegged Alistair as the Arl's bastard. The Orlesian saw him as the one thing that threatened her perfect family bliss. Well, besides the man in the cell now.

The prisoner was a mage judging from his robes and the magic which hummed in his veins that Alistiar's keen templar senses picked up on. His face was a mixture of emotions: terror, gratitude, and remorse, complete and utter shock...

His beady eyes focused on Cecilia. Her expression was unreadable.

"CeCe..." he said in a quiet voice that conveyed nothing but disbelief and regret.

He knew her, and she knew him.

)O(

There were two people in the world who called her that. One was Petra, but she was safe and warm and most importantly alive in the Circle Tower. The other was _him_.

"Jowan," Cecilia stated once she recovered her voice. Her throat had gone inexplicably dry.

"I can't believe it's really you. I mean, I thought surely Greagoir would...I'm just so glad you're okay."

"The Grey Warden, Duncan, offered me a place in his order and the templars, by law, couldn't do anything to stop me from joining."

"Oh..." Jowan let the information sink in. "Maker, CeCe, I'm so sorry...for everything. I-"

She held up her hand to silence him. "You betrayed me, Jowan. You lied to me. You used me for your own gain. I had the opportunity to sell you down the river and save my own ass when you told me your stupid plan, but I believed you were innocent, because I wanted to believe it. You've done a lot of idiotic things in the past, but this? This is beyond forgiveness."

"I know," he replied. "But please, just answer one question for me. I don't deserve that but I need to know: what because of Lily? Did they hurt her?"

"_You_ hurt her, Jowan." Cecilia said bitterly. "When were you planning to tell her the truth? Were you even going to?"

"I don't know! I wasn't thinking! I just wanted to survive!" her former best friend exclaimed. He was crying now from the sound of it. "Please, just answer my question...I beg you..."

Cecilia took a deep breath and spoke very calmly. "The Circle was taken over by blood mages and a Pride demon that controlled Uldred - You remember him? - I killed it, but not quick enough. Many of the mages are dead. Uldred had forced them to either become abominations or die. I thought you should know. As for your question...I don't know what they did with Lily. I left before they took her away. My guess would be Aeonar, but who knows?"

"It's my fault..." Jowan muttered, and Cecilia couldn't say she disagreed with him. "And Petra… Did she...?"

"She lives."

"Good...At least something positive came of all this." he said. "Now, I think I owe you an explanation of what I'm doing here."

Jowan admitted to poisoning the Arl, yet another stupid thing he'd done, but he insisted he had no part in the walking corpses and the demon that was behind it all. Apparently the Arlessa's son, Connor, was a mage. She hid this shameful secret from her husband for fear that he would be sent away to the Tower for training. She hired Jowan to teach the boy enough magic so that he could control his abilities, and Jowan used this opportunity to complete his mission of assassinating Arl Eamon. Both of these tasks failed miserably. The Arl did not die and Connor made a deal with a demon resulting in the Veil being torn to shreads and an army of undead bringing havoc down upon innocent people.

"I'm tired of running..." Jowan said then. "I've done so many terrible things, hurt so many people...I just want to make it right again. I know I don't deserve another chance, and you have no reason to trust me now...But we were friends once, if that means anything to you let me out of this cell so I can help repair the damage I've done here."

"I helped you once in the name of friendship." Cecilia pointed out.

"And I betrayed you. I realize that and I'm so sorry. Please...just..."

She unlocked the barred door and released him, ignoring Alistair and Wynne's protests. He was an apostate and a maleficar, after all. Leliana and Morrigan agreed with her decision, though for very different reasons. The elf, Zevran, didn't seem to care either way.

"Thank you, CeCe..." Jowan said, pulling her into a hug before leaving her again.

"What are friends for?" she replied.

They headed up the stairs to see what evil awaited them. There were things to be put right and demons to slay.

"I don't think _anyone_ is beyond forgivness." Leliana said gently, feeding the words to Cecilia like spoonfuls of honeyed truth. It tasted bitter to her. The warm hand on her arm felt cold.

"Even Marjolaine?" the mage shot back. Leliana recoiled at that, as if pained, and her hand fell from the other woman's arm.

Just another thing to add to Cecilia's list of regrets.


	13. Confronting Desire

**A/N:** This chapter is a bit dialogue-centric. Sorry if you don't like that kind of thing. Please review and let me know what you think.

)O(

She had witnessed demonic possession before, but never like this.

Connor was too young to control his powers, too young to understand that the creatures he dreamed of that offered him everything he could ever want had no intention of a fair deal. He was too young to know any of these things, and now he had fallen prey to a demon. It was the oldest tale in the book. Sadly, she knew how it must end.

"Please," the Arlessa begged. "Don't hurt my baby! Connor is still in there somewhere, I swear it! There must be a way to destroy that thing inside him without harming my child." Of course she would think that. She was just a mother desperate to save her son. She refused to believe that there was no longer any part of him that could even be called human. The Circle taught that once someone became an abomination, there was nothing that could be done for them, and they had to be killed before anyone else suffered at the hands of the demon.

The Circle wasn't always right, though.

"Lady Isolde," Cecilia said, "I will do everything in my power to save him. But...these things rarely end well."

"She's right." Jowan's voice cut in. "He's become an abomination. Supposedly, there is no way to be rid of the demon other than to kill the child."

"_You_...I brought you here to help my son, and you poison my husband?" Isolde wailed, eager to place blame on someone.

"What he did was wrong, yes, but he wants to help now." the mage pointed out. It wasn't as if the Arlessa was entirely blameless in this either; she had protected Connor, which was what any mother would do. But it had cost innocents their lives.

"You don't have to defend me, CeCe." Jowan told her. "She has no reason to trust me, and neither do you. I understand." She almost felt sorry for him.

Cecilia sighed and asked what there options were.

"Well..." Alistair began. "The easiest choice would be to...kill Connor. It's the only way I know of to deal with this, but I dread actually having to go through with it."

"Wait," Jowan started. "There is...another option..."

The other mage knew what he was referring to. He had showed her the old book, originally from the glory days of Tevinter, now covered in a thick layer of dust. He'd said it was fascinating, and she had agreed. They shared an interest in blood magic, the difference being that she was only interested in the theory, but not actually practicing it. She knew better.

This particular ritual involved sending a mage into the Fade to confront the demon that was controlling the boy. It meant the child had a chance, but not without the sacrifice of another's life-force...all of it, in fact.

Jowan explained this to Isolde, who, entirely too calmly declared that she would be the one to die if it could save her son's life.

"What about the Circle?" Wynne suggested. "They have a few mages left and plenty of lyrium. Irving is in your debt, Cecilia, this could work."

"Yes, but going that route will take something we don't have: time."

The strategies were on the table. Everyone had their varying opinions. Blood magic was supposedly evil, and it would mean Lady Isolde's death. But, at the same time, they couldn't afford to wait for the Circle to send aid.

Dark times called for controversial solutions.

And there was a small voice in her head arguing that if the Circle came here, Jowan's fate would be sealed. She couldn't let that happen, not even after everything he had done.

So Cecilia allowed him to send her into the Fade using the forbidden magic.

He warned it would be painful.

That was an understatement.

She felt the magical energy beginning to build up, but that wouldn't be enough, of course. Then she smelled the blood...

Cecilia's spirit rose from her body just as Isolde's was ripped from her own. She clung to that shining speck of light and slipped into the Fade. Then the Arlessa's spirit vanished, perhaps returning to the Maker.

Cecilia wandered about the raw Fade alongside dreamers and quiet, benevolent entities. Because she was not in the realm of a demon this time that sought to cloud her mind and break her will, Cecilia still couldn't see a thing.

Desire was waiting for her.

"No more games," the demon promised. She spoke as if she was bored. "You are in my domain. It is here that I am most powerful...But let us be civilized, hmm? There is no reason why we should have to fight. I think we can work something out that will make us both..._very_...happy..."

Cecilia doubted that very much. "What could we possibly have to talk about?"

Desire made a noise deep in her throat that sounded almost like a laugh. "We are all creatures of desire, no? The only difference between you and I is that _I_ have the power to bring your wildest fantasies into reality. I could release the boy...for a time. And I can even restore your sight, if yo wish."

Cecilia scoffed. "First of all, that is _not_ the only difference between you and I." she began. "Second of all, I declined that very same offer once. What makes you think I'll change my mind now? I know that there is always a price to be paid when dealing with demons."

"Ah, but you are a smart one. The boy made a deal with me already; as long as I eventually get what was promised to me, the bargain is fulfilled. But the contract does not specify exactly when this has to occur. He could live out a long and happy life, if I so choose. I could leave him alone for a few decades...and return to take what is mine later."

"Or you could just leave." the mage suggested. "You say you are most powerful in this realm, well so am I, demon, as a mage and especially as a thaumaturgist. I've danced with your kind before, and they were no match for me. What makes you think this will be any different? Do you really want to lose your life over a little child's soul?"

"Are you truly so unwilling to negotiate?" Suddenly, Desire was entirely too close to her. "What will it be, hmm? Name your price, don't be shy, I can offer you much...Arcane secrets, perhaps? The love of those around you? Or maybe...pleasure? I can take many forms, you know..."

Cecilia was determined to stand her ground. She would refuse any temptation Desire tried to persuade her with. "I will not gamble with Connor's freedom."

"Why so eager to save him?" the demon mused. "It is common knowledge that one who has shown themselves as particularly susceptible to the influence of 'my kind' as you say, are almost certain to end up in the same place. That is, assuming they can be 'freed' to begin with."

"He won't make the same mistake again." the mage stated. "And in truth, it's not Connor I need, but his father."

She felt Desire smile at that. "Ah, yes, the man my pet was so desperate to cure. I have sustained him this long, slowing the progression of the poison in his veins, but I cannot say what will happen should I have reason to leave them both."

"I'll take my chances. I'm giving you reason: leave or die." There were few things demons valued more than their own lives, if one could even argue that they were alive. Creatures like Desire also valued their station in the convoluted hierarchy of the Fade, and judging from the size of this demon's realm, she probably wouldn't be difficult to kill. She was smart enough to venture that Cecilia knew this as well.

Demons valued nothing in this world or beyond less than they did mortals.

Surprisingly, the demon left without a fuss, promising to visit Cecilia very soon under more pleasant circumstances. Yeah, that will be the day, the mage thought as she bid Desire farewell for what would hopefully be the last time.

It was just in time, too; Isolde's spirit was fading fast. What remained of it was drifting too far away for Cecilia to cling to its energy. Luckily, she was not tethered to the Arlessa by any sort of deep spiritual or mental bonds, and so she could not be dragged down. The mage felt it getting colder...and darker...until...

)O(

Cecilia sat up abruptly, shivering and gasping for breath. Either the latest encounter with Desire had rattled her more than she thought, or being so suddenly and roughly snatched from the Fade caused her body to go into shock. Probably the latter.

Someone pressed a vial into her hands, which she took hesitantly.

"'Tis just lyrium." Morrigan said. "The herbs I've added should ease the tremors and vertigo." Cecilia lifted the vile to her lips with shaking hands, drinking its contents. Morrigan continued, "I had to pull you out; there wasn't enough life energy of that insufferable woman left to keep you in the Fade a moment longer." The Witch paused. "Your friend would have given up every last drop of blood in his veins if that was what it took. Such a fool."

"Where is he?"

The Witch thought about this question for a moment, probably debating whether or not she should tell the truth. "Most likely back in the dungeon if _they_ have anything to say about it."

Cecilia sighed. "I guess most of our traveling companions aren't too happy about my decision, huh?"

"That would be an understatement." Morrigan replied. "I, on the other hand, believe you did the practical thing. Perhaps not as practical as simply killing the child, and a great deal more risky, but there are certain..._advantages_ to confronting your enemy directly."

"Even _you_ know it's never wise to make deals with demons."

"Indeed I do." The Witch chuckled, then became serious. "I have no interest in following in my mother's footsteps."

Conversation died down after that, and the two mages fell into a sort of understanding silence. Cecilia thought about _him_. Perhaps Morrigan thought about Flemeth. For some reason, she found herself regretting everything she had said to Jowan in the dungeon. He wanted to redeem himself in her eyes more than anything. But what was the use of wishing you had done things differently?

"Do you think I was too hard on him?" Cecilia asked suddenly.

"You mean your friend, the blood mage?" Morrigan inferred, to which she nodded. "I have no idea. He made you out to be a fool, did he not? He betrayed your trust, even if he was only trying to survive. It does not matter now: we cannot alter the past. He must learn from his mistakes, and the same goes for us all."

Cecilia was momentarily stunned by the Witch's sagely response.

Morrigan left her alone soon after. Cecilia wondered just why it was she cared so much about what the others thought of her anyway? She had perfectly justified reasons for doing what she did, and that should be enough, but it wasn't. For whatever unfathomable reason, she needed their approval. Why couldn't it be enough that she was their leader? Why did she have to be their friend, too?

When the door creaked open, she was expecting it to be Morrigan, or one of her other party members come to express their displeasure. But it wasn't, in fact, not even her war hound. No, the aura was unfamiliar.

"Hello, ma'am." Connor said nervously. "Can I...talk to you?"

"Of course," she said, motioning for him to sit beside her. "And please, call me Cecilia. Both Grey Wardens and mages are notoriously informal."

"Oh." the boy sat down. "Everyone says you saved my life."

"Actually, I couldn't have done it without Jowan, and your mother of course."

"I miss her. No one will tell me what really happened, only that I'll understand when I'm older and that she isn't coming back." Connor was very quiet for a moment. "Jowan...He made Father ill, didn't he? And yet everyone says he's your friend."

"Well...yes, he is." Cecilia tried to explain. "He was my friend before that. But he did something very stupid and desperate that hurt a lot of people, including me. I was angry. I wasn't ready to forgive him. But I guess it doesn't matter now."

"Stupid and desperate..." Connor repeated. "Kind of like asking the mean lady to save Father even though she only wanted to make me do bad things to people?"

"Not exactly," she said. "You know what this means though, don't you?"

"You mean that because I'm a mage I'll have to go to the Circle of Magi after the Blight is over?"

It would be hard for him to adjust. It was hard for her. It's hard for anyone, it all depends on where you came from. Everyone is equal in the Tower, and the templars stand guard like suits of armor with the human insides scooped out. The Tranquil walk the halls like ghosts with the humanity _literally_ stolen from them. She wanted to tell him this, but decided against it.

"Yes." Cecilia confirmed. "I'm sure you have questions. You want to know what it's like there and if you will ever see your family again. Am I right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She supposed she deserved that. "You'll make new friends at the Circle, and learn new things, like how to cast spells and shield your mind from demons." This was all true. Maybe he would even make a friend who wouldn't resort to blood magic and abandon him to his fate at the hands of the templars. Compared to that, facing a demon was a walk in the park.

"That's what the mean lady was." Connor realized.

"That's right. Des...That is, the mean lady is among the worst of them." she said. "It won't be easy, but it is possible to resist such temptations, and not all spirits of the Fade are malicious either. As for your family...Well, your father is a very wealthy and powerful man. I'm sure he will be able to pull some strings for you, even if mages do have to give up their noble titles. Supposedly, it's to make the transition smoother, but the real reason is because the Chantry wants to take away any voice the mages might have, especially among the nobility." Cecilia paused, having almost forgotten who she was speaking to. "Basically, you will never be arl, but you may receive a letter or visit from your father on occasion. Which is more than most mages get."

Connor thought about this, then asked, "Has your family ever sent you a letter or visited you at the Circle?"

"No." she admitted. "But they couldn't afford it."

"Will you write to me?"

That could be difficult, considering the blindness, but she could always get someone to write down what she wanted to be in the letter. Yes, that should work just fine.

"Of course I will."

"Thank you, Cecilia, for everything." Connor said.


End file.
